Animus
by Psyche613
Summary: Will it be fear, loss, magic, or love that forces The Dark Knight to come to grips with his own psyche and the truth behind what drives his mission?
1. Prologue

_If you suppress grief too much, it can well redouble._ ~ Moliere

Yes, it's complicated. He's complicated. As complicated as it is, it's even more complicated than that.

It is about vengeance and justice. It's about the mission. It's about preventing other children from losing their parents like he did.

But, it isn't _only_ about vengeance and justice. It isn't _simply _about having a mission to prevent other children from losing parents in the most violent of circumstances. Yes, it is about those things. But it isn't _just _about _those_ things.

The experts will tell you that children can react to the death of a loved one in a variety of ways. There could be denial, anxiety, panic, sleeplessness, hostility, and guilt. To name just a few.

In the usual course of grieving the loss of someone they love, children typically go through a process that first involves the experience of the pain and acceptance of the loss. The acceptance eventually allows children to become able to reminisce and remember the person who died. This process preserves positive memories and integrates some of them into the child's own concept of himself.

In the healthy resolution of the normal grieving process, the child then becomes better able to reinvest in new relationships.

It is a much more difficult process for children whose loved ones die under sudden, horrifying, frightening circumstances – called traumatic grief. For these children, the normal grieving process can be disrupted. The child may become "stuck" on the way the person died.

The child may continue to experience and _relive_ a combination of trauma and grief so severe that _any_ thoughts or reminders about the person ―even happy ones―can lead back to frightening thoughts and memories of their death. Accompanied by terrifying nightmares, incapacitating guilt, frightening hostility, overwhelming helplessness…

Thinking about their lost loved ones may not evolve into the positive and comforting memories hoped for as part of the grieving process. Instead those thoughts can continue to be hurtful, upsetting and even terrifying. The child may well avoid thinking or talking about the person who died altogether.

In the unusual circumstance that the child is also in possession of unyielding guilt, limitless intellectual capacity, indomitable will, and endless material resources – there could also be the means by which to eventually engage in the most extreme of activities that would allow for incessant attempts to take back that lost control in childhood.

Reliving the traumatic event over and over again would then become deliberate – an attempt to find absolution by altering the outcome.


	2. Scar

A/N: The story begins post 'Dead Reckoning' and addresses some of the issues that were ignored from that episode. Spoiler alert for 'Dead Reckoning'', as well as tiny hints at 'Starcrossed' and 'This Little Piggy'.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 1: Scar

"_Have you ever been hurt and the place tries to heal a bit, and you just pull the scar off of it over and over again?" – Rosa Parks_

The alarm system alerted him that the teleporter into the Batcave had been activated. He had known that she'd come. Unfortunately, he had no interest in discussing any of the events that had transpired on the League mission earlier that day.

Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman had gone with Deadman to Gorilla City in an attempt to retrieve the Heart of Nanda Parbat from the Legion of Doom. Grodd sent several Legion of Doom members, including Lex Luthor, Tala, and Devil Ray to retrieve the heart so he could use it as a power source for some sort of transformation machine that would turn all humans into apes. Thankfully, the plan had been foiled and the League had accomplished their mission, but unfortunately, not without significant cost.

After the Legion's plans had failed, Devil Ray made a last ditch attempt on Diana's life. Unnoticed by everyone but Deadman, Devil Ray had aimed his weapon at Diana. The ghost quickly jumped into Batman's body and used a discarded gun lying nearby to shoot Devil Ray. The shot knocked him back into a panel that subsequently electrocuted him.

For Batman, a man who abhorred guns and used only non-lethal, though often brutal tactics, this was a difficult incident to accept. It was made more difficult by the fact that the other likely outcome would have been losing Diana. He had been silent since it happened, teleporting directly to the cave rather than the watchtower, hoping to avoid the very confrontation that was about to unfold.

As Wonder Woman approached him from the teleporter pad, he continued his work at the massive computer in the Batcave, without so much as a pause between keystrokes. Although she was standing just a couple of feet behind his chair, he continued typing another minute without acknowledging her. _Tap. Tap. Tap._

"Bruce."

"I'm working."

"You should talk about this."

"Unnecessary. Forget about it." _ Tap. Tap. Tap._

"Forget…? Have you even MET ME? I'm not letting this go. It absolutely IS necessary. Something happened today. Something important. Something worthy of a taking a moment to examine and process so that it doesn't become yet another thing constantly eating away at you. Someone was killed today. With a gun. Not by you, but by your hand. I know you, Bruce. Even though the shooter wasn't really you, you will take this and add it to your accumulation of already soul-crippling guilt. And more than likely use it as yet another reason to avoid me."

"It was Boston. Not me. I know this. I have no memory of it. I feel no guilt over Devil Ray's death. End of discussion. Now you can go." _It was the truth._ _Keep typing._

"Damn it to Tartarus, Bruce! At least respect me enough to look at me when I speak to you!" Eyes blazing, she roughly spun around his chair and whipped off his cowl, separating it from his cape.

Growling, he seized tightly the bracer-clad wrist of the hand that held his cowl and rose slowly from his chair. With barely contained rage, he stepped forcefully forward causing Diana to back up, step for step. As she backed up against the wall next to the large bank of computer monitors, he grasped her other wrist and pushed both against the wall beside her.

They glared at each other. They both knew he couldn't hold her if she didn't want him to. Batman could and had intimidated many superhuman beings. It had never worked on her though. She had deliberately pushed him to the edge and waited expectantly for what would come next. She hoped finally for some human reaction. She hoped for some – any – emotional display.

"Let. It. Go."

"No."

Her breath hitched as he leaned his face forward closer, closer. His warm breath caressed her face. Pressed between him and the wall, an involuntary shiver of excitement went up Diana's spine. He knew he had this effect on her and was not above using it to his advantage. It was the excitement of anticipation that took her breath away. Her mind quickly drifted to images of Bruce pushing against her, kissing her, touching her, lifting her off of the ground and wrapping her legs around his waist…..

Successful in his attempt to distract her, Batman swiftly grabbed the cowl from her hand and pulled it over his head as he stalked away from her to the batmobile and jumped in. He pushed the gas pedal to the floor. The car wasn't moving. The wheels spun but the car hadn't moved an inch. The tachometer was approaching 2000 rpm. _What the hell?_

He looked up at the rear view mirror and caught sight of Diana, eyes ablaze with anger, standing right behind the shiny black car. Using her Gods-given superhuman strength, she had lifted the rear bumper, the back wheels a few inches off the ground as his attempt to escape and seek refuge on the streets of Gotham proved unsuccessful.

Batman slammed the car into park and turned off the engine. He then hung his head and slowly got out of the car. _Dammit. Dammit. Dammit._ _Damn this obstinate, fearless, emotional, beautiful, compassionate, desirable woman. _Defeated, he walked around to the back of the car. She gently sat the car down.

He pushed back his cowl and leaned against the car, eyes cast toward the floor. He spoke low, his voice uncharacteristically heavy with a mixture of difficult to identify emotions.

"Diana, I'm really not feeling guilty or angry about being used to kill Devil Ray. And I'm not sorry that he's dead."

Diana's eyebrows furrowed. She didn't understand, he seemed so upset when they left Gorilla City. She knew him well and had difficulty comprehending any situation – particularly this one – that_ wouldn't_ inspire his guilt or anger. He hated guns. He was used to kill someone with a gun. The gun held in _his _hand. How could it be that he wasn't affected - not feel some remorse of another's death? Unconsciously, her hand found the Lasso of Truth, resting on her hip.

Batman caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. "That isn't necessary. I'm being truthful."

"I don't understand." she whispered. "You seemed so upset. So disgusted when it happened."

He sighed. "I was – I am. Diana, I had been about watch it happen in front of me – again. Someone else more important to me than…. If Boston hadn't done what he had, it would have happened. I wouldn't have been fast enough. I wouldn't have prevented it. Again."

"Again? Bruce, you were eight." This was of course, about the tragic murder of his parents. Nearly every action, every cause, everyt_hing _ in Batman's life could be traced back to that tragic night on a street in Gotham, when his parents were murdered in front of him.

He looked up at her but continued on without acknowledging her comment. "So, yes, I am disgusted. With myself. But not for the reason that you probably think. I'm disgusted with myself for being relieved…glad even… that Boston used me to kill him before he killed you. That's not who I am - what I'm supposed to stand for. I shouldn't be _happy _that he was killed. I should be sorry that he's dead. But I'm not. I'm not sorry because he tried to kill _you_."

Diana stepped forward between his legs, leaned into him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He hesitated briefly but allowed himself to relax against her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair allowing himself some brief comfort. Diana whispered gently, "It's ok to be grateful that I'm alive, Bruce. I also say a prayer of gratitude to my Gods each time you come back after a mission."

For several minutes they both just stood there, arms wrapped around each other, taking solace in their closeness, their contact.

Diana turned her head toward him, gently brushing his lips with hers. He froze. Undaunted, she began to kiss him with more intensity until he began to respond and his tongue sought contact with hers. Still standing between his legs, Diana unconsciously pressed her hips against his. The sensation of her brushing against him immediately brought back reality.

He pulled back from her immediately and attempted to push away from her. "I'm sorry."

"Bruce, forget it. Don't bother. I don't want to hear it again." Her cerulean eyes flashed with a flicker of anger and sadness. She knew what he was about to say. It would be another variation what she'd heard many times before. Another excuse for not letting her be more than a teammate, a friend. She allowed herself to be pushed back a step as he pulled his cowl over his face. Bruce had retreated and the Bat had taken his place.

He didn't want to say it to her any more than she wanted to hear it. He wanted nothing more than to let go and to experience everything that was Diana. Unfortunately he believed that the circumstances of his life – of their lives - made it not only impossible, but dangerous.

Resigned, he continued speaking. He'd say it and be done with it. Maybe she would eventually understand.

"All of these years, it has been a struggle not to step over that line with abundant number of psychopaths on the streets of Gotham every day. There have been many that I've been tempted to rid the world of permanently. After Jason, Barbara, I was tempted to kill Joker every time I laid eyes on him. But I held myself back. Maybe I should have. I've always felt that it wasn't right to kill under any circumstances."

He finally looked up to meet her gaze. "Then today happened, Diana. It was beyond my control, but it was unexpected for me to be so…fine… with the fact that I participated in killing someone. I felt a disturbing lack of remorse for him dying because it saved you. Now it feels as if I've gone over the edge of that line. If whatever this is between us goes further, it could be very easy for me to kill someone believing that they _might_ hurt you - and that it would be acceptable. So _we_ can't happen."

She looked at him with eyes bright with unshed tears. Tears that she, as an Amazon, would not allow herself to shed in front of him. "Yet another reason. I don't need to hear more of them. Like I said Bruce, don't bother. I get it. I came here only trying to be your friend. I've realized that trying to be more to you is futile. Please forgive my loss of control a moment ago."

He stared at her a moment, then turned and climbed back into the batmobile and left. Driving away, he watched in the rearview mirror as Diana stared after him, frozen in place, head held high. Her own mask – that of a proud Amazon – firmly in place.

For sometime after he left, Diana was still at the cave standing in the same spot. Several tears finally spilled over and flowed down her cheeks. _Hera, why do I continue to torture myself over this man?_

"Miss Diana? Could I interest you in some tea?"

Diana turned to find Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's butler and surrogate father, standing behind her. They had become good friends during her stay at the manor after the first watchtower had been destroyed by one of a number of Bruce's suicide missions to save the world. During that time, she had grown incredibly fond of him. Intelligent, refined, and well-educated, he had spent many years in the dedicated service of the Wayne's.

So trusted was he as part of the family, that upon their tragic and untimely death, Thomas and Martha Wayne left their young son in his care. He was also much more than a surrogate father to Bruce, patching and sewing him up after his nightly crusades.

It was apparent to Diana that as proud as Alfred was of what his charge had accomplished for Gotham and for the world, there were also aspects of Bruce's life that disappointed him. That disappointment was clearly displayed on his face at that moment. He regretted his charge's refusal to develop more than superficial romantic relationships and lead some sort of normal existence. He also believed that there was no woman more suited to the challenge that was Bruce Wayne than the one standing before him.

At Alfred's question, Diana quickly brushed away her tears and attempted to compose herself. "Thank you Alfred but I should be going. My presence here was not requested nor desired."

With a comforting touch on her shoulder, Alfred replied, "I don't believe that to be true Miss Diana, but if it will persuade you, but as you know, Master Bruce will not be returning for many hours. I assure that you can be long gone before his return."

Diana managed a small smile. "Ok, Alfred. I would like tea very much. You're joining me?"

"It would be my pleasure Miss Diana." He offered his arm and escorted her up the stairs.

She followed Alfred up the stairs to the kitchen where the tea service had already been prepared, two setting waiting on the large kitchen table. Alfred poured the tea and brought out an assortment of pastries. They sat in silence several minutes while Diana sipped her tea and struggled to regain her composure.

"Miss Diana? I have a good idea of what happened in the cave a short time ago, but would you mind enlightening me as to the events on your mission earlier this afternoon?"

Diana explained the mission of that day, ending with the attempt on her life and the death of Devil Ray.

"Ah. So Master Bruce is troubled by his lack of regret or remorse for the death of this Devil Ray?"

Diana sighed and nodded but said nothing. There was no person that knew both Bruce and Batman better than the man who had raised them both.

"And he takes this as yet another of his reasons to keep you at arm's length? He indicated that the closer you become, the more likely there could be other such outcomes when your safety was involved?"

She nodded again silently.

"I've no doubt that is not all that bothers him. It is my belief that his 'mission,' as he calls it, is his way of changing the outcome of his parents murder. He was unable to save them that day and this haunts him, despite the fact that he was just eight years old. So every time another person is saved, another mission successful, he gets some of that power and control back, however fleeting it may be. Perhaps today, he would have been unable to save you himself?"

Diana sat in silence looking at the man in front of her that probably knew the man, both with and without the mask, better than any other.

Alfred continued. "So, not only does he have the guilt – or lack thereof – of someone's loss of life to accept, but he also contends with the knowledge that when you needed him most, he failed you. I have no doubt that he believes you to be better off without him – or with someone else."

Diana continued sitting in silence for several more minutes, not sure what to say, if anything. She had no doubt that Alfred was accurate in his observations, but didn't see how it really mattered as far as she was concerned.

"Thank you Alfred. We've not had the opportunity to talk in a long time. I'm sad to say it may be some time before we speak again. As I said earlier, Bruce has made it quite clear that he has no room for me in his life other than that of a teammate. To be honest Alfred, I no longer have the strength to fight for something that is so clearly not wanted by anyone but myself."

"Miss Diana, one could hardly blame you for not wanting to put yourself through the pain he causes you again and again. However, please do not doubt the depth of Master Bruce's feelings for you. It is my belief that that it will only be a matter of time until he realizes his mistakes and acts on those feelings. My only hope is that it won't be too late."

"It is quite possible Alfred, that it already is. I really can't do this anymore."

It was nearly three in the morning when the regalia of the Batman was discarded in the cave and Bruce Wayne made his way up the stairs to his home. It had been a slow evening thankfully, as the Dark Knight had been distracted by thoughts of Diana throughout the evening. For him, it served to further reinforce his belief that that his future was meant for little more than shallow trysts and one-night-stands. Relationships were a liability.

Passing the kitchen, he noticed something peculiar. A tea service for two, still sitting on the table. He knew his surrogate father well enough to know that Alfred would not retire for the evening leaving the kitchen anything less than immaculate. He sat down at the table gazing at the abandoned dishes with a forlorn expression. It was left as a message that Alfred had received an update on events of the day and his disapproved of how Bruce had handled them.

"You had some company this evening?" Bruce directed over his shoulder, towards the individual who had emerged silently in the doorway behind him. Much of Batman's stealth had been learned from the man that raised him.

"I did, sir." Alfred replied, his tone and expression were completely neutral.

"No doubt she shared with you the events of the day. You disapprove of my position?"

"It's not my place to make judgments on your actions, sir."

Bruce sighed. "Since when?"

"Well, Master Bruce, it seems that my opinion is easy for you to determine. Yet you ask anyway. Perhaps you feel conflicted?"

"Of course I feel conflicted, Alfred. It's Diana."

"Then I would advise you to resolve the conflict quickly."


	3. Lost

Minor spoiler - "This Little Piggy"

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 2: Lost

"The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost." G. K. Chesterton

Batman was suffering. This was cruel and sadistic torture. He felt like his head was about to explode. The pain was agonizing. This was worse than anything Darkseid, Joker, or Luthor could have come up with. Together. Hell, this was likely worse than anything Hades himself might cook up in the pits of Hell.

It was the biweekly Justice League Founder's meeting. Superman appeared to be oblivious to Batman's pain as he droned on about various mind-numbing topics such as the lack of nutritional value of the commissary food or the inappropriate access of adult-oriented websites on League computers by its younger, less mature members. Wally had remained uncharacteristically silent during the latter discussion.

Batman shifted uncomfortably as he noticed that J'onn watched him intently. He could have sworn there was a smirk on the normally stoic Martian's face. Both knew that the true source of Batman's frustration and annoyance was the empty place at the table. His only salvation during League meetings was absent.

It wasn't like her to miss a meeting and there were no current active missions. She hadn't indicated to him that she would be away, however her absence appeared to be of no concern to the others. _Probably the only person she didn't tell she was going to be away. No doubt a last minute decision made last night. Right after I pushed her away. Again. _

Glancing back over at J'onn, he noticed the smirk had transformed into a frown. _Damn telepath._

After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, the words 'Gotham' and 'fundraiser' caught his attention. A topic of possible interest to Bruce Wayne, if not Batman.

Superman cleared his throat. "Next order of business. We've been asked to send someone to appear at a fundraiser to be held in Gotham City several months from now. Sponsored by the Stone Foundation. Apparently this will be a benefit concert with a number of popular bands performing with famous 'special guests'. They are looking for us to send someone from the Justice League to perform – preferably sing – with one of the bands."

The red speedster perks up at this.

Batman groans inwardly. _Wait for it._

"Oh! I know!"

"No." A batglare is directed toward the Flash. Four smirks are directed back at Batman.

"But Zatanna –"

"No." _Will this ever go away?_

"Come on, Bats. It was GREAT. She showed it to me."

_Mental note – confiscate Zatanna's crystal ball. Forever. Maybe seal it in lead and tell Superman its Kryptonite. He could throw it into the sun._

"_NO"_

"Aw man." Wally slumped down in his seat, clearly disappointed he wouldn't get to see the live performance.

Wearing a huge grin of amusement, Superman resolved the issue. "Sorry, Flash, but Dylan Stone has already specifically requested Diana. I spoke with her before she left to take a few days off and she agreed to sing with Dylan Stone's band in the grand finale. As I said, the event will be sponsored by the Stone Foundation. Money raised will go to provide aid to women and children African countries embroiled in long-term conflict like the Sudan and the Congo. As you know, this is a cause Diana would support in almost any way possible. I'm sure we'll hear more about the event in the coming weeks. Meeting adjourned."

Teleporting back to the cave, Batman's mood grew darker than usual. Dylan Stone's request was bothering him. He had heard something about this fundraiser from his Public Relations staff. Dylan Stone wasn't a native of Gotham, but these things were often held in his city. Besides its size, Gotham had an abundance of wealthy and generous citizens. With Bruce Wayne, of course, being the wealthiest and most generous of the bunch.

Dylan Stone established the Stone Foundation after making a fortune in the music business. Bruce Wayne had met him several times at the various fundraisers and other high-profile events he attended. Stone's musical talents and good looks had led to superstardom very quickly.

He wasn't the stereotypical rock musician. The son of missionaries, Dylan Stone had been used to leading a minimalistic lifestyle. From media reports Stone continued to live a simple existence and funneled most of his vast fortune into his foundation. Continuing his parents legacy in his own way, most of the Stone Foundation funds were spent in third world countries providing for basic human needs. He traveled all over the world, supervising many of the projects personally. The paper and internet tabloids were full of pictures of Dylan Stone putting hammer to nail, assisting in the construction of new schools and shelters.

An uneasiness about the benefit concert and Diana's participation in it continued to grow. Having agreed to participate, Diana would be as vigorous preparing for this as she was with her physical training. Dylan Stone would be likely be spending a lot of time with her preparing for the performance.

Professionally, the man was like Bruce Wayne in many ways. Young, rich, and handsome. Leaders in their respected industries. Enormously generous in their charitable works.

It was the differences though, that most concerned Bruce. Diana would be spending time with a man that personally, was the antithesis of Bruce Wayne. Genuine. Honest. Down to earth. Approachable. And most of all, emotionally available.

Diana had left the Watchtower very early that morning, before the others began to arrive for the Founder's Meeting. She had no plan in mind for her brief holiday, she just wanted to get some time and space to think. Eventually she would make her way to Themyscira and ask Apollo, the God of Music, to bless her upcoming concert performance. _Great Hera, what have I gotten myself into?_

After a brief stop at Themyscira's new Washington Embassy, Diana turned south and flew along the east coast. As she reached the Outer Banks of North Carolina, her stomach reminded her that she had missed breakfast in her haste to leave the Watchtower that morning in order to avoid seeing a certain infuriating, pointy-eared superhero. Turning inland, she landed in the small tourist town of Carolina Beach, in search of food and iced mochas. She quickly found a small coffee shop called not far from the coast.

Although it was still early, a star-struck barista talks her into forgoing her standard iced mocha for something called a Mocha Shake. The delicious concoction was a partnership of fresh espresso shots, chocolate and vanilla ice cream and topped with whip cream.

Taking her shake and muffin outside and finding most of the tables occupied, Wonder Woman approached an attractive brunette in her thirties who was sitting alone reading a thick hardcover book.

"Excuse me, mind if I join you?"

The woman looked up, speechless for a moment as she realized who it was asking to sit with her.

"Uh. Um. Of course, please. You're Wonder Woman."

Diana smiled and sat down. "Yes I am. I apologize if I'm intruding."

"Not at all. Work can wait a few minutes. It's not like I get to meet a famous superhero every day." The woman shut her book and reached over the table to shake hands. "My name is Katherine Blakemore."

"A pleasure to meet you Katherine." Diana looked over at the book that now lie closed on the table. "Clinical Work with Traumatized Young Children? If you don't mind my asking, do you work with young children?"

The young woman smiled. "I rarely pass up the opportunity to talk about my work. I'm psychologist in Wilmington that provides group therapy and play therapy to young children with trauma histories. Most of the kids I work with are no older than six years old."

"So, its Dr. Blakemore? Trauma therapy for children so young?"

"Please call me Kate. Well, we work with a lot of children who have been referred by the Department of Social Services for abuse or neglect. We also see children who have experienced other traumas, like natural disasters, the death of a close family member, witnessing violence... things like that."

Having rescued many children during war or natural disasters, but rarely having the opportunity how they fared after the crisis was over, Wonder Woman continued her questions. "So, Kate, how do you help a traumatized child?"

"Each child and each experience is different. A lot would depend on the type of trauma and the age of the child. Children's perspective on events – traumatic or otherwise – will change as they develop."

"What about witnessing the violent death of a parent?"

Dr. Blakemore's eyebrows briefly lifted in surprise at the very specific question. The surprise quickly dissipated as the realization dawned that someone like Wonder Woman must see a lot of children experience trauma first hand.

"Generally, we would call an experience like that 'traumatic grief'. The biggest problem is that the normal grieving process is pre-empted, so to speak. The kids get 'stuck' on the way that the person died. Because the trauma was so severe even good memories about the person end up causing the child pain and the often continue re-experience the horror of their parent's death. They have nightmares. They end up avoiding any thoughts or memories of their parents altogether. Sadly, because of the pain of the loss and the normal grieving process is disrupted and without proper treatment, the child may end up unable to form and maintain new relationships."

"Into adulthood?"

"Possibly. Without the right supports in place."

Diana stared down at her empty cup in silence.

"I would imagine in your line of work you might see this kind of thing a lot?"

Diana nodded her head slowly looking up at her new acquaintance, meeting her gaze with a gentle smile. "Thank you Dr. Blakemore – Kate. I must be on my way. Would you mind if I were to contact you again in the future?"

"Really? I would love that. Here's my card."

He was desperate to have Bruce Wayne's day be over and to turn Batman loose on Gotham's criminal element. Glass in hand, he watched Gotham's elite enjoying themselves in the ballroom of the Gotham Hotel. Yet another fundraiser for yet another charity for which Alfred had already written a generous check.

Hopefully one more "drink" and he could put on a display of excessive inebriation to escape his date and have Alfred "help" him home. Although, he thought, as he looked over at the tall, gorgeous brunette next to him (_Alexandra?_), she actually seemed like a nice girl. From what Alfred had told him, the girl was an aspiring actress but unlike most of his dates, she was Ivy League educated. In preparation of another drunken playboy performance, he drained his glass of the non-alcoholic concoction that tonight smelled of Bourbon.

Throughout the evening, conversation with the young woman at his side had been superficial but not unintelligent. Of course, there was the obligatory leering and groping required of Bruce Wayne, but she handled it in stride with an amused expression, redirecting both the conversation and his hands in more appropriate directions.

Batman's mind turned to planning his patrol while Bruce Wayne led his date to the dance floor for a final public drunken display before ending his evening. As he "stumbled" onto the dance floor and used the young woman's breast to "catch" himself, he was startled by the smirk on his dance partner's face that seemed to say "Give it a rest, I'm not buying it". Before he could mentally process this odd reaction further, he heard the sound of sirens outside the building.

"Uh, sorry gorgeous, I'm not feeling so well. I'm afraid I need to call it a night."

Again he was surprised by her wide, genuine smile. "Of course. Thank you for the fascinating evening, Bruce. Perhaps another time?" She leaned forward giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, turned, and walked away smiling.

_Weird._

Focusing again on the sirens, Bruce Wayne pulled out his cell phone and called Alfred who was waiting in a limo outside.

"Master Bruce?"

"I'll be right out Alfred. "

"The young lady, Miss Alexandra?"

"She's fine. And she's staying. Oddly enough, she was perfectly comfortable with my departure and appears to be enjoying a drink with a new friend at the moment."

"Very good sir."

"What's going on outside?"

"I'm not sure sir. I've heard one of the other drivers mention something about a body being dumped in front of the building."

"Ok, on my way out now."

Bruce shut off his phone, pocketed it in the jacket of his Armani tuxedo and quickly descended the stairs in front of the hotel. He could see the yellow police tape that was strung between a sawhorse and several light posts in an attempt to cordon off a large crime scene. He froze as he caught sight of what the Gotham City Police Department was attempting to protect from the growing numbers of media and onlookers.

She was lying on the street just off the curb. A young woman. Face down. Very tall. High red boots. Red top. Blue bottoms. White stars. Long raven colored tresses.

_Diana._


	4. Fear

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 3: Fear

"_It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live."_- **Marcus Aurelius**

Neither the playboy billionaire nor superhero vigilante seemed to be present in the chaos surrounding the crime scene. It was simply Bruce Wayne that pushed through the crowd amidst the whispers of "Wonder Woman" that assaulted his ears. A growing feeling of dread took him back thirty years to another night and another crime scene. Just as the realization of the emotional parallels between the two nights hit his consciousness, the Bat took over. The focus of the World's Greatest Detective was needed, even beneath the mask a drunken playboy.

He tried to force himself to focus on the fact that it was unlikely to be her lying there. Although not invulnerable, she was immortal and a class A meta-human. It was difficult for him to comprehend a scenario that could lead to this.

It took every ounce of willpower in him to continue that drunken playboy façade. He attempted to push through the crime scene, stumbling through the yellow crime scene tape. Bumping into Gotham's finest, "Oops, sorry boys, I can't seem to find my limo."

He was immediately surrounded by several members of the Gotham City Police Department. "Sorry Mr. Wayne, we can't let you through here. This is a crime scene."

The group was quickly joined by Commissioner Jim Gordon, who pulled Bruce aside, speaking loudly. "Sorry Mr. Wayne, but we can't let anyone but authorized personnel through this area. You will need to go around. This way." With a tilt of the head, he indicated that he should be followed.

Bruce trailed close behind, although his gaze never left the woman lying on the street. As soon as they were out of earshot of the officers, Gordon stopped and turned. At the moment, Batman was unconcerned at that moment that he was about to confirm what were likely long-held suspicions regarding Bruce Wayne's nighttime activities. Although his eye remained fixed on the now sheet-covered body lying on the street, he asked the question. "Is it her, Jim?"

Walking still further away from the officers and the crowd, Gordon lowered his voice. "We don't know."

Batman turned away from the street and from behind Bruce Wayne's ice blue eyes locked onto those of the Commissioner in silent communication. _It's Wonder Woman. How do you not know?_

Gordon looked away from the cold stare, back toward the crime scene. "Ok. It will take fingerprints, DNA or dental records to make a positive ID. Since we don't have any of those things from Wonder Woman, I called in to have the signal go up. We'll need to have the help of Batman or the Justice League to determine if it's her or not. They are about to move her to the morgue." He paused. "You can't tell by looking at her who it is. Her face is unrecognizable. Whoever killed her, carved her up pretty good. "

_Carved her up. _Bruce's gaze fixed again at the sheet-covered form lying on the asphalt.

_Carved her up…_ _Carved her up…_

"Master Bruce?" Having overheard the last part of the conversation, Alfred's voice broke through his reverie of despair. "Perhaps we should return to the Manor and let the police do their jobs?"

Bruce closed his eyes, steeling himself, "Thank you Alfred, lead the way." He nodded, "Commissioner."

As soon as the door to the limo closed behind him, Bruce held a hand to an electric panel that scanned his fingerprints to open up a compartment in the floor. He hastily removed its contents and pulled on his suit and cowl.

He immediately activated the comlink inside his cowl. "Batman to Watchtower."

Shayera was currently on monitor duty and answered his call. "Watchtower."

"Wonder Woman's current location."

"She asked not to be disturbed."

"Current. Location."

Not easily intimidated by Batman, something in his tone made Shayera comply with the request.

"Standby…" She scanned the large screen in front of her. "Unable to trace location of comlink. Last known location was over Atlantic Ocean, presumably en route to Themyscira."

Silence.

"Batman?"

"Do your job. Monitor. Check the Gotham news feeds. Batman out."

Shayera quickly called up the Gotham news reports. "Watchtower to Superman."

Having driven to a secure location where Batman could exit the limo without being seen, Alfred addressed his charge with concern. "Sir, should I contact Master Dick or Master Tim to assist?"

"No. We don't know anything yet. Dick should stay in Bludhaven. Tim can cover patrol as usual. You can have Oracle can pull any available surveillance footage from outside the hotel. I will brief everyone when I return to the cave."

"Bruce?"

"No, Alfred. It's not her." He tried to sound convincing. He tried to sound convinced. "It can't be. Send the batmobile to the secure Five Points location."

Batman stepped from the limo and shot off his grapple, making his way across the city to the roof of Gotham City's Violent Crime Unit.

Mid-route, his comlink was activated from the Watchtower. "Superman to Batman"

"Not now."

"Now now? Have you completely lost your mind? What the hell is happening?"

"I don't think it's her. I'll be in contact. Do something useful and look for her. Batman out."

Jim Gordon stood waiting on the roof of the GCPD building, next to the huge spotlight they used to call in Batman. He hadn't turned around or heard a sound, but he spoke anyway knowing from experience that he was no longer alone.

"They've brought her in." Never turning around, Commissioner Gordon silently walked to roof access and down the many flights of stairs to the basement level where the Gotham City Morgue was housed. Wordlessly Batman followed.

Each individual they passed looked away as the two made their way to the forensic unit. Gotham City's Coroner, a middle-aged man with silver gray hair met them at the door. Upon entering the sterilized room, the coroner's young assistant pulled white coverings over their clothing. Batman pulled off the gauntlet on his right hand and allowed him to apply a blue nitrile glove.

He walked over to the silver metal table, draped in a white sheet. He first slid his hand under the side of the sheet, finding the woman's hand. He gently lifted it, out from under the sheet. He gazed for a moment at the long, smooth fingers before placing it gently back on the table and covering it with the sheet.

Reaching across to his left, he grasped the sheet at the top, slowly lifting it away from the woman's head. Another smaller white cloth lay across the woman's face, presumably to cover the damage that had been inflicted.

He did not touch the cloth covering on her face, but lifted the sheet higher, just enough to survey the length of woman underneath. There were no visible lacerations. He took note of the tiny flaws and imperfections on the expanse of skin now void of the red, white, and blue uniform. Carefully he lowered the sheet back to its original position.

In a barely seen glimpse of emotion, the blue gloved hand gripped the edge of the exam table as the shoulders beneath the cape slumped slightly and ragged breath was taken.

"Batman?" Gordon's voice was tense.

The Dark Knight stood, back straight and head up. "Cause of death?"

"Don't know yet," replied the Coroner. "The lacerations on her face were inflicted pre-mortem, but none appear deep enough to be fatal. There's another laceration on the small of her back. We're not sure, but it looks like the number 7. Also shallow, not fatal. Hopefully the autopsy will tell us."

Batman turned, walked toward the exit, stripping off the glove and white protective garment as he went. He tossed them into the trash next to the door. Without turning back toward the commissioner and Coroner, he spoke. "Run your fingerprints, dental records, and DNA. It's not her." He then strode out the door, cape billowing behind him.

Close on his heels, the commissioner called out to him. "Wait. How do you know it's not her?"

Batman stopped short, turned and stared down the man he considered a friend. "I've known Wonder Woman for years. She has no physical imperfections. Her skin is flawless. Every inch."

Commissioner James Gordon accepted that conclusion without question decided not to think about how exactly Batman would know how flawless every inch of Wonder Woman was.

As fast as his human body would take him, Batman found his way back to the batmobile and raced back to the cave at breakneck speed.

He stopped on the turntable inside the cave, exited the car and barely made it to the chair at the computer before his control finally cracked. The adrenaline that had kept him focused and calm over the last hour dissipated completely. As the intense sense of relief washed over him, he began to tremble, then shake uncontrollably. He pushed back the cowl and leaned forward to rest his forehead on the cool metal desk.

A few moments later, a cup of hot coffee was placed beside him and Bruce felt Alfred's hand on his shoulder.

Batman sat up. "It's not her."

A sigh escaped the older gentleman. "Thank God. Master Bruce, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine. I just need to see her. They still don't know where she is."

At that precise moment, his Justice League comlink activated. "Superman to Batman."

"Batman here."

"She just teleported up to the Watchtower."

"Does she know anything?"

"I don't think so. She said she was going to her quarters."

"Good. Don't tell her. I'm coming up. Batman out."

It wasn't necessary to tell her at that moment, it could wait until the next day. But he needed to see her. He needed to satisfy that part of him that wouldn't be completely convinced she was fine until he was able to see her with his own eyes.

He walked to the teleportation pad and punched in the coordinates to the Watchtower. Briefly meeting Alfred's eyes, he vanished in a flash of light.

It wasn't often that Diana spent the night on the Watchtower. She had an apartment in New York and the embassy in Washington, DC. It was late when she checked back in from her brief holiday. She decided to stay rather than fly or transport back to Earth rather than risk disturbing her sister Donna in New York or the other residents at the Themyscira Embassy.

She also knew that there was another reason. The real reason. She wanted some solitude, time to think about how to disengage from her preoccupation with Bruce Wayne.

After showering, she slipped between her white Egyptian cotton sheets. Sleep was slow to come as she lie there in the dimly lit room, her mind struggling with the knowledge that she needed to move on, but with her heart lacking the desire to do so. Her conversation at a coffee shop in North Carolina and another with Alfred the day prior, had only left her with a stronger desire to push through the steel curtain that Bruce Wayne had erected to protect him emotionally from the world and from himself.

Finally Diana drifted off into a restless sleep.

Batman silently entered the dimly lit room and approached her bed. He knelt beside it as he pushed back his cowl and removed his gloves. He allowed himself to watch her sleep for several minutes before he reached out and brushed a lock of black hair away from her forehead. Then he gently traced a finger along the cheekbone of her perfect, beautiful face.

Diana's opened her eyes to find herself looking directly into Bruce's ice blue ones. He gazed back at her with an oddly soft expression. She didn't know why he was here, but somehow she knew it wasn't for the reason she hoped. Something was amiss; she pulled the sheet snugly around her bare skin.

"Why are you here, Bruce?" Even with what had transpired between them when they had last spoken, her voice was filled with genuine concern.

He picked up and held her hand in much the same way that he had done earlier that evening in the Gotham City Morgue. "Princess, there was a murder in Gotham tonight."

With even more concern in her voice she whispered, "I'm sorry Bruce… someone we know?"

"They don't know who it is yet."

Diana was confused. She knew that Bruce took each and every death in his city personally. However, it would take more than the murder of a stranger to prompt him to come to her in this way. "That wouldn't bring you here. You have more to tell me."

"Yes." He got up, sat on the edge of the bed next to her, and recounted the events of the evening.

"Someone wanted the public to think I'd been killed? Why?"

Bruce shrugged. "There are many possibilities. It could be someone obsessed with you. It might be someone wanting to send a message."

"What message? To whom?"

"I can't answer that yet."

"Bruce, I still don't understand why you came here _now_. I would have expected you to be in full detective mode in Gotham trying to solve this, calling an emergency Founder's meeting first thing in the morning."

He stood up and replaced his cowl. He walked to the door and paused briefly without turning. "I needed to see you." Offering her no further explanation, he left and returned to the cave to begin the work of finding out who had done this and why.


	5. Humility

A/N: Spoilers for "This Little Piggy" and any of the number of episodes that Batman feels the need to take out a target by flying something into it.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 4: Humility

"_Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less_." – **Rick Warren**

As it turned out, there was an emergency Founder's meeting called the next morning after all – by Superman. The seven were seated around the table waiting to be briefed on the situation by their resident detective. Five sets of eyes looked expectantly at Batman; one set of blue ones looked down at the mocha latte that was sitting on the table in front of her. Her face wore a determined expression.

Batman began to brief the group as quickly as possible, unaccustomed to providing this much detail on a case and unhappy about doing so. "As you are aware, at approximately 11:20 P.M. last night the body of a young female was dumped on the street in front of the Gotham Hotel. The deceased was tall with black hair. Dressed like Wonder Woman. Her face had numerous lacerations, rending facial identification impossible. She also had a laceration on her lower back which appeared to be the number 7."

"After ruling out Wonder Woman as the victim, fingerprint analysis determined the individual to be Keri Jacobs, age 23." With several quick keystrokes on the consol built into the conference table, Keri Jacobs' driver's license photo appeared on one of the large wall monitors. "Keri Jacobs graduated from Gotham State University last year, majoring in Secondary Education. She had been fingerprinted as required prior to completing student teaching. Since graduating, tax records indicate that she has been trying to establish a modeling career."

"Gotham PD is currently interviewing family, friends, and her roommate. All that is known so far is that she left at 7 pm to go work out and was discovered in the street at 11:20. All available security video around the dump site and between her apartment and gym was reviewed, providing nothing substantive. No sign of her leaving the apartment building. At the crime scene, just a white cargo van, no plates, tinted windows, no visible occupants. The body dump was quick and the van left the scene."

"That's all we know. Tonight I will be following up on several of the GCPD's interviews, then paying a visit to several residents at Arkham. Nightwing and Robin will interview her classmates at Gotham State."

Batman paused and look up. Now all six pairs of eyes were on him. After a second or two of silence, several questions were fired off.

"Why the number 7?"

"How do you think this is connected with Wonder Woman?"

"Do you think it could be one of JLU's enemies?"

Batman raised a hand to silence the room. "All questions we don't have answers to yet. When we do, I'll let you know. Now I need to get back to Gotham." He then stood up to leave.

"Could the 7 refer to the original seven founders?"

Wanting very much to leave, he glared at Superman as he finished his question. "Again, no evidence to support that theory yet. However, if another body turns up dressed as someone else at this table, we'll have our answer."

As he walked toward the door, one last question came. This time, coming from Diana. "How are we going to help with the investigation?"

Batman paused briefly at the door and turned his head to respond back over his shoulder. "You're not. What happens in Gotham is my responsibility."

Diana left to see her sister immediately after Bruce's briefing on the Watchtower. Shayera had contacted Donna the night before when they had been trying to find her. Her sister knew Diana had gone to Themyscira for a brief visit and planned to stop at the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. Nonetheless, Donna had been worried, although Diana had probably gained audience with the God of Music and was unreachable by comlink.

Diana updated her sister on the situation in Gotham and assured her that it was no reason to change her upcoming mission assignment. She was now lying on her sister's bed, staring up at the ceiling as Donna reluctantly prepared to leave for her mission in space. Her thoughts were on what they usually were when she wasn't working or training – Bruce. She had long since grown weary of the tug of war they played. Though to be honest, since he had saved her from Circe's spell, she had barely seen him. Unless it was about League business, he avoided interactions with her.

When she had left the cave the other night, she thought she was ready to find a way to move on. Now the issues seemed a bit more clear to her, even if they weren't to Bruce. She wanted to help him realize that he could let go of some of the pain of his parents' death and have the other reasons for his mission still exist. Perhaps if the pain went away, so would his incessant need to engage in pseudo-suicidal behavior. The problem is she didn't know where to begin or if he would let her get close enough for her to even try. Even if it didn't change a thing between them, she still wanted to find a way.

She stopped thinking when a pillow landed on her face. "Diana. Where did you go? I've asked you three times if you wanted to grab lunch before I leave. I have no idea if there will be anything to eat other than the rations Batman stocks on the Javelins."

As there was no shortage of restaurants in New York, the two quickly found themselves having a quiet lunch. "So Sis, there's obviously more going on with you than the homicide in Gotham. As if I don't already know, but perhaps the 'more' that's 'going on' is also in Gotham?"

Diana sighed. She told her about her conversation with Kate and how she had gone from being willing to try and give him up to wanting very much to help him deal with something that had plagued him since childhood.

"Anyone who is aware of Batman's real identity knows the profound effect his parents' murder had on him. It was the pivotal moment in his life. I realize that it drives his mission, but it goes so much deeper than that. The fact that he pushes people away because he's afraid of losing them isn't an epiphany. But now it has a name. Now I know the cause – a cause that isn't only about witnessing his parents' being killed in front of him. That can't be changed. If somehow he can go back and finish the grieving process and let go of the guilt…maybe he'll want a healthier relationship and feel worthy of it. Worthy of me."

"I don't know Diana. Would he listen to any of this? Even if he buys the psychology of it, would he be willing to go there after all of these years? It would require him to talk about things he's avoided for years. This is Batman after all. Suppose he did though; would it work after all of this time?" Donna looked back at her sister with sympathy. "I don't like being so negative, but you need to be sure you want to push this. It seems like it could just end up with him withdrawing even more. I don't like to see you keep getting hurt."

After a few moments of silence, Donna offered one last piece of advice. "Maybe you need to talk to someone who doesn't have a close relationship with either of you. Go back to North Carolina. Get a better idea of what you'd be getting yourself into."

He had managed to sleep a little over an hour after returning from the Watchtower before Bruce Wayne's life occupied the remainder of his day. Just after sunset he had set out to complete second interviews on Keri Jacobs' family and friends. It was after midnight when Batman finished this task, without discovering anything that the GCPD hadn't already. Fortunately, it seemed that Gotham's criminal element sensed that this would not be a good time to antagonize Batman without an extensive hospital stay. The city remained relatively quiet and allowed him to focus on his investigation.

Accustomed to fatigue, he was now in the Batmobile on his way to meet Gordon at Arkham. His plan was to verify that the inmates were secured as reported, then "interview" several of Gotham's most notorious to see what information he could obtain about last night's murder.

As he drove, his thoughts went back to the meeting up at the Watchtower earlier that day. He wished he could have told Diana to come to Gotham and help him with the investigation. Instead, he'd been harsh, but that was nothing new. Even Diana was used to that.

He wanted to protect her from this, both physically and emotionally. She'd blame herself if more women died and if the killer was someone obsessed with her…well the further away from Gotham she was, the better. He tried his best to conceal it, but he worried constantly about her safety.

What was different this time was how much more difficult it was to control his emotions and actions. The sense of desperation during that hour before he ruled her out as the victim made it extremely difficult to maintain his composure. It was one of the longest hours of his life. He hadn't been able to control his need to see her that night. This was also a problem. Losing control was unacceptable. Especially now after what happened in Gorilla City. He had to put distance between them. So, of course he acted like an ass for the second time in three days.

He pulled up to Arkham Asylum Penitentiary. Jim Gordon's car was sitting empty in front of the building. Going through the main entrance, he found Gordon in the Guard Room speaking with one of the prison guards and an attractive blond woman wearing round eyeglasses and a white lab coat. The commissioner introduced Batman to Dr. Gesine Mastles, a new psychiatrist at Arkham.

She spoke with what sounded like a French accent. "It's a pleasure to meet you Batman. I've heard a lot about you from many of our residents here since I arrived in Gotham. I'm surprised we've not met before now."

Not one for polite small talk, Batman only responded by asking several questions.

"How long have you been on staff at Arkham, Dr. Mastles?"

"Almost three months. Right after I finished my residency at La Colombière Hospital."

"What would bring you to Arkham Asylum from France?"

"Ah, that would be your large of number of psychopathic criminals and super-villains."

Batman turned to the Commissioner. "Speaking of, is everyone accounted for?"

"No recent escapes, or you'd already know." replied Gordon. "It's been surprisingly quiet lately. You ready to have a few 'conversations' with some of your biggest fans?"

Nodding to the doctor, Batman followed the guard to Extreme Incarceration, where the most violent and insane inmates were maintained. Several hours of intense 'interviews' with Joker, Two-Face, Riddler, Bane, and Zsasz led to nothing in the way of helpful information. He left Arkham and headed back to the cave extremely frustrated. He hoped that Nightwing and Robin had been more successful.

When Batman returned, Tim had changed out of his uniform and was sitting at the computer.

"Where's Dick?"

Tim kept working, attempting to update the case file to include what they had learned this evening notes before he was inevitably kicked out of the 'big chair'. "He went home."

"Find out anything useful?"

Tim finished his last few notations and turned around to face Bruce. "Not much. Average student. Sorority girl. Talked to a bunch of sorority sisters with wild stories to tell and several bitter ex-boyfriends. Nothing that pointed out any obvious suspects. I'll listen to the campus rumor mill tomorrow for anything else." Dick was a graduate and Tim was now a freshman at Gotham State.

Bruce sighed. "Ok, get some sleep. Gordon says the autopsy report will be ready by the end of the day tomorrow. Maybe there will be something in it. You and Dick meet me here at sunset and we'll see what we have."

The Gotham City Coroner had determined cause of death to be an overdose of Phenobarbital. Forensics of the body and crime scene had yielded little. No trace evidence. No DNA. Cuts were made with a common blade, available at any number of department stores. The Wonder Woman costume available online or at any costume store. He was tracking any more recent purchases made by credit card, but a killer who was organized enough to leave this little evidence probably paid in cash.

So, in the Batcave, Batman, Robin, and Nightwing had moved on to Victimology. Using information they had gathered through interviews, documents, and a search of her apartment. They worked up a profile of Keri Jacobs' personality and lifestyle to determine if there was any particular reason she was the chosen victim.

Dick summarized what they had learned on campus. "What seems to be a common theme from most of the people we talked to is that this woman was narcissistic and obsessed with looks, clothes, and status. She had a massive stockpile makeup and clothes. More than what an occasionally employed model should be able to afford. Her current roommate says she worked out for hours every day. A number of ex-boyfriends and sorority sisters told us that she "upgraded" boyfriends based on money, looks, and status. She craved attention. Some of her former classmates went so far to as to speculate that the reason she majored in Secondary Education was because she liked the attention she was given by high school boys. Nobody suspected anything inappropriate, that she was just shallow."

Tim frowned. "So why not try to get a teaching job while she was trying to develop a modeling career?"

"Several of her sorority sisters told me that after her student teaching her focus changed. She probably realized that there was work involved that would take time away from working out and going to parties."

"Explain to me again why I had to interview the bitter ex-boyfriends and you got the sorority girls?"

Batman quickly broke off this exchange. "Her current boyfriend didn't mention the boyfriend upgrades but he reports a similar preoccupation with her looks. His alibi for that night checks out."

"Vanity sounds like a reason for cutting up her face, but what about the connection to Diana? This doesn't sound like her at all. Actually it sounds like her exact opposite." As Tim was speaking, Alfred briskly descended the stairs.

"Sirs, the Bat-signal is up."

Diana found herself once again flying down the eastern seaboard headed for the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Katherine Blakemore had clearly been surprised by her call, but seemed quite pleased at the prospect of meeting Wonder Woman again. Her last client finished up at 5:30, so she had suggested Diana meet her at her office. They could then go and discuss whatever had brought her back over dinner.

Diana had worn jeans and a t-shirt this time in an effort to be a little less recognizable. As the sun was setting, they found themselves eating barbeque with plastic forks and paper napkins at a picnic tables by the beach.

"This is amazing. How have I never had this before?" Diana was enthusiastically enjoying her meal. She was also stalling a bit, suddenly hesitant about asking her questions. It was very important that she not divulge any information that could expose Bruce's alter-ego.

"I'm finding it a bit surreal myself to be sitting here by the beach eating barbecue with Wonder Woman."

"Again, please call me Diana."

"Ok, _Diana_, you said you needed to talk to me about something. I get the sense now that you might be having second thoughts?"

"No, just concerned I might divulge information that's not mine to reveal."

"Well, if it helps, although you aren't a client, my profession is big on confidentiality. Besides, who in their right mind would want Wonder Woman mad at them?" Kate offered an encouraging smile.

Her response made Diana much more comfortable. "Hypothetically, if one of the children you treat were to never successfully complete the grieving process and well into adulthood was still suffering the effects of the traumatic experience, would it be possible to help them?"

Kate sat back for a moment before she responded. "It's always possible. It would really be about the individual's willingness to face the problem. As an adult, it would be actively trying to change long-standing patterns of behavior. Having emotional supports in place would be essential. Would this person be willing to engage in psychotherapy?"

Diana shook her head. "Not likely."

"So am I correct in thinking that you would need to be the person providing the support?"

"Yes."

"Well Diana, since I don't have much experience working with adults, consider what I have to say just friendly advice. In any other circumstance I would say your support should be limited to encouraging the individual to engage in therapy. If this person is in your line of work, I would imagine that would be difficult. Besides the fact that if this is someone you are close to, you would find it difficult _not_ to at least try to talk to them about it. There's also a risk you could damage the relationship that already exists. My best suggestion would be to take a little time away from this person and the situation to gain a little perspective. See if this is something you really want to do and a risk you really want to take."

During their conversation, sunset had given way to dusk. As they cleaned up their meal, Diana heard the familiar buzz on her comlink and the familiar voice of Green Arrow. "Watchtower to Wonder Woman."

"This is Wonder Woman."

"We just got word from Gotham, Diana. Another body was found. Dressed in a Wonder Woman costume."


	6. Kindness

A/N: Spoilers for "This Little Piggy", "Starcrossed", "For the Man Who Has Everything"

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 5: Kindness

"_Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love." _** – Lao Tzu**

The next day, the original seven found themselves in another meeting at another briefing. Batman gave the group another briefing, clearly frustrated that there had been another murder and he'd learned very little that pointed to the perpetrator. They sat in silence. This time, all eyes in the room were looked expectantly at him.

"The second victim was found along a street lined with upscale boutiques, jewelry stores, and trendy restaurants. These places are very upscale and typically cater only to the Gotham elite. Security footage yielded nothing new. You all know that the victim was found dressed in a Wonder Woman costume. So, it is safe to say that the killer's focus for some reason is on Diana. The autopsy report is not expected until at least tomorrow, but cause of death appears to be several stab wounds to the heart. Although it is possible that she'll also have drugs in her system, as did the last victim. She also had the number '6' cut into her abdomen."

Green Lantern asked the question they were all thinking, "So, we're to expect 5 more bodies?"

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Superman said. "Batman, are you sure there isn't something we can do in Gotham?"

Batman recognized that he couldn't continue to maintain his 'No meta humans in Gotham policy'. "Hopefully soon. But not right now. We're reanalyzing physical evidence, reprocessing the crime scene, and interviewing or re-interviewing everyone with a connection to the victims. Until we figure out a connection between the victims and generate possible suspects, we're already doing everything there is to do."

Shayera was an accomplished detective in her own right. "So, then, tell us about the second victim. Has she been identified?"

"There was no difficulty identifying the victim this time. The police knew immediately. Her name is Samantha Benedict." He called up a series of photographs taken from newspaper articles. "Her family is part of the Gotham elite and frequently mentioned in the society pages of the Gotham Gazette. I knew her."

"As you can see, she looks nothing like Wonder Woman, so that doesn't seem to matter anymore. This is probably because for the first murder, the killer wanted there to be some speculation that it was her. At least by the press. It's unlikely he knew it would take awhile for the Justice League to verify it wasn't Diana's body." His pause to look over at Diana was accompanied by a barely perceptible intake and exhale of breath, that only she and Superman would have been able to hear. With it, Diana's expression changed from one of concentration to one of realization and concern. Batman knew that look had everything to do with his late night visit. _If there has to be another briefing, I'll make Dick do it. _He looked back toward the monitor and continued.

"She was considered the black sheep of a highly respectable Gotham family. She had a younger sister that appeared to be her polar opposite. Ivy league education, works for the family business, married to a prominent physician. Samantha quit Gotham State after her first year, lived off her trust fund, and had a string of less than respectable boyfriends. She had the constant attention of gossip columns that focused on things such as wild parties, multiple DUI's, and a scene at her sister's wedding where she showed up drunk. Very drunk. It was no secret that the two sisters didn't get along. Arthur Benedict was Samantha's stepfather and he adopted her when he married her mother. Samantha's biological father died in a car accident when she was a young child."

"It sounds like we have two young women with some emotional issues," offered J'onn.

From Flash, "And a need to be the center of attention."

Shayera nodded. "They both attended Gotham State, would they have crossed paths there?"

"We've made a list of everyone there that has crossed both of their paths. Given the size of the university, it's actually a short list so far. Dick Grayson is taking care of following up. We're capitalizing on the fact that he's an alumni and a police officer – and officially on temporary reassignment to the Gotham City PD. Something Barbara and the Commissioner helped facilitate. It allows us to officially keep working during the day. We're also looking for any other possible connection."

"Diana, you've been very quiet. Have you ever met either victim?" Superman reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

"No. I'm certain of it. Other than the times we've been there for some sort of crisis or stakeout, I've spent just a little time in Gotham. When the new Watchtower was being built, I stayed inside the manor and away from the populous. The few times I did go out, it was in disguise so nobody would notice that Wonder Woman was living at Wayne Manor."

Diana looked at Bruce again, this time with a faint, yet wistful smile. He understood this look as well. It was during that time that they had grown much closer. Hours spent sparing. Going over the new Watchtower blueprints together. He would return from patrol to find her waiting for him in the cave, often helping Alfred provide whatever medical intervention he needed.

During those months they had become much closer, but a romantic relationship was never broached upon. Nevertheless, their emotional connection strengthened. Then, after their encounter with Mongul and the Black Mercy, he decided he needed to put a stop to it. He believed that the feeling of desperation he felt as Mongul slowly tried to beat her to death would be a liability in battle. After that the emotional tug of war between them began.

John added another theory. "What about your enemies? Does this seem like something any of them would do? Ares maybe?"

Diana shook her head. "Not one of the Gods. Not Circe either. They wouldn't need to buy a knock off uniform – even if it _was_ a really good one. Circe can turn people into animals, she would just turn their clothes into one. Besides, on Olympus they tend not to be subtle. For something like this - they'd want me to know it was them."

"Cheetah?" Flash asked.

Batman interjected at this suggestion. "No. She just wants money. She should also still be in prison. Something to check, though. Is there anyone else you think we should check out, Diana?"

Diana sighed. "No."

"There is another possibility that we've not discussed." J'onn looked in Batman's direction. "Why Gotham? As Diana indicated, she's not spent that much time there."

Batman quietly responded to J'onn's question. "We've considered that as well. Everyone of note is currently locked up in Arkham. The GCPD are tracking down anyone released from jail recently that I've apprehended and put away. It's a long list. It's unlikely, but possible, that someone is trying to get to me through Diana."

His gaze fixed on her again, both taken back to a rooftop in Gotham where he had said the exact same words. Used as one of the reasons that they couldn't become more than friends and colleagues.

Diana stood up and walked out of the room.

As the door closed behind her, the discussion turned to how Diana was coping with the situation. After a few excruciating minutes listening to this, Batman followed her.

She remembered crushing a stone gargoyle in her hand to demonstrate the argument ridiculous. At the time it was ridiculous. Up until a few minutes ago it was ridiculous.

This wasn't what the reason was supposed to be about. The reason was supposed to be about one of Bruce's enemies hurting _her_ to get to him. Instead, innocent young women were getting killed. But still possibly using her to get to him.

Diana stood at the window in her room on the Watchtower, staring out into space. A torrent of thoughts and emotions went through her.

_Why would anyone use me to get to him like this? Was it possible that anyone outside the inner circle knows what is between Bruce and I? WE don't even know. They could just as easily have used someone else in the League. Or the Batclan. Although, Bruce, Kal, and I are considered the foundation of the League, so it would make sense to target the ones closest to him. But that's not something that can be changed or avoided. What if we did become something more to each other? _

_Maybe I should reconsider trying to help him? I want him to be happy - even if it can't be with me. Maybe talk to Alfred or Dick? They could it. Maybe he could still be happy and at the same time I could put more distance between us. But I DON'T want to put more distance between us. _A few of the tears she'd been fighting finally spilled over. _Stop. Kate was right. I need some time away to think all of this through. _

She heard the door open and close behind her. It could only be Bruce.

She didn't turn around.

"Princess?" The word was spoken softly, yet in his strong baritone.

Diana slowly turned her head and looked over her shoulder. She smiled gently at him and turned back to the window.

Bruce pushed back his cowl and took off his gloves, lying them on the bed. He walked over to the window and stood on her left, also looking out the window into the depths of space. After a moment he looked over at her and caught sight of her tear-stained face. Turning toward her, he reached up and brushed his thumb across her left cheek.

She looked back with that same kind, affectionate smile. He dropped his hand to his side.

"Diana, you shouldn't feel guilty about what happened to these women. You didn't do this."

She turned to face him. Her smile never wavered.

"I know that Bruce. I grieve for what these women have lost – what their families have lost." _What __**I **__have lost._ She reached up and gently cupped his right cheek in her hand. "Guilt and grief are entirely different things. I hope that someday you can truly come to understand the difference."

She felt him stiffen, a conditioned response when faced with his own emotions. However, he didn't back away or run. He continued to look back at her. She knew he was searching her face for a glimpse of the defiance and frustration that he expected to accompany an attempt to get him to discuss what he was feeling.

What he was searching for wasn't there. He found only sympathy, compassion, and kindness.

She watched the dissonance play out in his eyes. Leaning forward, she gently and chastely kissed him. Her physical contact was brief. She stepped away from him.

"Bruce. You don't need me in Gotham and I need some time away from all of this. For reasons I don't completely understand and can't explain, I find myself at a crossroads. I need to come to some understanding about why that is and what path I am to take. My communication with the League will be maintained for emergencies. When you find out who is killing in my name – and I know you will – please have me contacted. I need help take him down." As she spoke, the fire slowly came back into her eyes.

As she began to walk by him, he grabbed her arm above her bracelet and gently pulled her to him. She felt his arms circle her waist and his face bury into her hair. As he spoke, his warm breath caressed her neck.

"Diana, this feels like goodbye. You are coming back." Of course, from Bruce it sounded like an order, not a question.

She smiled, wrapped her arms around him and returned his embrace. Over his shoulder she caught sight of the pile of mail on her bed, brought with her from the embassy this morning. In the pile she recalled the written request from Dylan Stone to join him in California, choose a song, and rehearse their upcoming charity performance.

"I'm coming back, Bruce. I promise."


	7. Diligence

A/N: Spoilers for Grudge Match

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 6: Diligence

"_The expectations of life depend upon diligence; the mechanic that would perfect his work must first sharpen his tools."_ _**–**_** Confucius**

It wasn't until two days later that Diana found herself flying her jet from the Watchtower toward Earth, making her way toward the California coast.

She was still tired from the night before. And still furious. _Glamour Slam._ She had been inches from smashing Shayera and Vixen's skulls together. She would love to have Roulette alone in the cage match. Just for a few minutes. Bruce probably already found whomever Luthor had gotten to sabotage the comlinks at Wayne Tech. Hera help _him_. Some time away "to think" was sounding better and better.

At least there hadn't been any additional women found dead in Gotham wearing Wonder Woman regalia.

She was to meet Dylan Stone at a private airport near the Southern California coastline. It wasn't necessary to land her plane there – it could fly and land nearly anywhere, including through and on the water. It was certainly convenient, but this meeting point was chosen because he had some sort of meeting there that afternoon.

Diana arrived early, having been eager to get off of the Watchtower. The only activity she found at the small airport was four men gathered next to a small plane. Three had large packs on their backs over red jumpsuits and helmets. Another man was working with the plane and appeared to be preparing for departure.

They jumped in surprise as Wonder Woman suddenly became visible as she exited the plane. Mouths open, none of the men uttered a word as she walked toward them and said hello.

"Excuse me, are one of you Dylan Stone?"

Three pairs of eyes turned to the fourth man in the group, a very tall, handsome man with blonde curls and eyes that were the color of washed denim. He stepped forward, hand extended. "That would be me. Pleasure to meet you, Wonder Woman."

"Just Diana, please," she said smiling as she returned the handshake.

"Nice to meet you, Diana." Dylan grinned at his friends who were still standing silent, staring at the new arrival. "Sorry boys, I won't be joining you today."

"Please don't change your plans on my account. I'm very early. You were about to go…?" Diana gestured towards the pack on his back.

"Skydiving."

"Yes. Jumping out of this airplane?"

Dylan Stone reddened slightly. "I'm an adrenaline junkie. With this, it's the thrill of flying through the air at high rates of speed."

"Do those tandem harnesses work without the parachute?"

He nodded.

Diana smiled. "Then, I'm sure I can do better. How would you like to try something a little different today?"

Several hours later, Diana was sitting in a small, yet beautiful home overlooking the Pacific Ocean. They had driven his convertible from the airport and stopped at Dylan Stone's home for some dinner and to hopefully choose a song for her to sing. Later they were meeting his band at an estate the record company owned.

Diana was looking out at the ocean, standing in front of the open door that lead out to the patio. "It's beautiful here," she said. "Peaceful."

Behind her, Dylan's head popped around the side of a computer monitor on the far side of the room. "It's small, but since the view itself cost a fortune, I wasn't comfortable with anything larger. I travel so much, I'm barely here. Besides, I'd much rather do something more important with the money I make. I don't need much. Later we'll be going to an estate down the coast that the record company owns, outfitted with a studio for practicing and recording. The suits find it helpful to have a place handy where they could get their talent to "focus". The accommodations are much more befitting a Princess. That is, if you choose to stay. My band is already there. Enjoying themselves, no doubt, before I arrive and demand many hours of rehearsing."

Not turning from the view, Diana responded, "Hopefully I will not disappoint."

"I can't imagine that could ever happen. As for the song….I pulled up some hit songs strong women singers, mostly classic stuff. Strong, powerful voices and strong powerful songs. It's how we mere mortals see you – but we could go another direction if you like."

At the phrase 'mere mortals' Diana turned to look at his expression. From Bruce, she would have expected sarcasm, disdain, or even disappointment in the tone. Dylan Stone was looking at her expectantly with a friendly grin. The same one that had been directed toward her all day.

She returned the same friendly smile. "No. That sounds just fine."

"Good. In that case, have a seat. I'll make dinner and you let me know if you find something you like. We have less than two weeks, so let's get to work."

Diana listened to song after song. mostly from the 70's and 80's. After about an hour, she sat back in her chair and pulled the headphones off. "This one."

Two days after Diana left, Batman sat on one his usual observation posts in Gotham. It had been four days since the last victim was found. Since then, there had been no more victims. There also had been no more clues. The autopsy report on the second victim turned up the expected cause of death – a laceration to the chest, causing severe blood loss. Trace amounts of Phenobarbital was found in her system, indicating that the killer probably used the drug to subdue her. Dick was tracing where the Phenobarbital could have come from.

He was in a foul mood. Even more so than usual. He was frustrated with the lack of progress on this case. Those that knew him best though, also know the other reason. Diana was in Southern California with no plan to return until the benefit.

And then there was that problem in Bludhaven the night before she went to California.

Across town, Robin was sitting on his own post watching the city. His comlink activated. "Batman to Robin."

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Anything suspicious?"

"No. You'd know if I did. This would be much more effective if Nightwing was on patrol too. We can cover more territory."

"No. He watches Bludhaven at night. He's doing enough during the day with the GCPD assignment."

"But Huntress is there."

"We've been through this. Huntress and four League members are lucky to be alive. Roulette would have killed them, using Diana as the tool. Because I had Nightwing in Gotham. It wouldn't have gotten so far if he'd been there."

"Now Lex Luthor and Roulette putting a Justice League girl fight together is your fault? Tell me, what isn't?"

Batman ignored his comment, "Besides, Oracle is monitoring nearly every outdoor security feed in Gotham."

Right on cue, Oracle broke in. "B. I think I have something. Black cargo van pulling out of an alley on Carson, between 17th and 18th. Yep, something was left on the ground as he pulled out of the alley. Visible from the street. Zooming in camera….it looks like we have victim number three."

Batman jumped off his perch and fired the grapnel gun in midair. He barked out, "Do you have visual on the van?"

"Headed up Carson, toward North Park"

He dropped onto the hood of the Batmobile and jumped behind the wheel. "Oracle – in pursuit. Keep a visual on him. Track my location and take me to him. Robin, go to the crime scene."

"Robin, GCPD en route. B, Right on Smithfield…..Left on Liberty…..You should get a visual at the turn."

Batman slightly lifted the pressure on the accelerator as he approached and pushed it to the floor through the sharp turn onto Liberty Avenue.

"Slow up, you'll be right up on him after the turn. Whoa – he just made a hard right mid-block. I think he pulled into a parking garage on the north side of Liberty."

"Get some eyes in that garage!"

"Municipal garage, on your right…now"

Batman saw the entrance and makes a hard right, going down a tight spiral ramp into the garage. It was an underground garage so there was no line of sight.

"Slow down! He stopped right at the bottom of the ramp on the first floor."

Pulling off the narrow ramp into the first floor of the parking garage and pulled up behind the van, blocking its exit.

"Any activity?"

"No. I saw it stop but nothing else. He's in there. Be careful."

Batman crept up alongside the van. He crouched low and raised a miniature camera on a flexible rod just past the window above him. The van had dark windows, so inside of the van was dimly lit and no visible movement was detected. He repeated this process on each window, picking up no movement within the van.

He circled around and found the driver side door unlocked. Cautiously, he opened the door just wide enough to toss in a smoke pellet filled with an anesthetic. After a few minutes to allow the air to clear, he opened the door.

It was empty.

Batman growled in anger. "Oracle, you're sure nobody exited the van when it stopped?"

"I saw it stop. Nobody got out."

"Pull the digital footage, look at it again. And send me a copy. Tell Nightwing that tomorrow I want everything the GCPD finds out on the third victim. Batman out."

He activated another frequency. "Batman to Green Lantern."

John Stewart immediately replied, "Another one?"

"Yes. And now there's something I need you to do."

An hour later, the entire van was sitting in the Watchtower hangar bay. It had been carried from Gotham into space, courtesy of Green Lantern's Power Ring.

"Ok, it's here," said Lantern. "Now what?"

"We tear it apart."

Since she arrived in California, Diana had come to understand that her host was not a spoiled and temperamental musician. He was as driven as any mortal she'd ever met. Well, all but one.

He worked tirelessly and expected that from those he worked with. Fortunately, she didn't tire easily.

He also expected perfection. From himself. From his colleagues. And from her, despite the fact that she was very inexperienced.

He was passionate in his cause. His cause was his foundation and the work it did. Selling records, to him, was a means to an end. It was a means to support the foundation and a way for his parents continue their missionary work. As he had explained, it's not like they can trek through jungle on foot anymore.

He reminded her a lot of Bruce in many ways. They were very different in others.

Dylan was open and genuine. She found it refreshing. His mission was fueled by a quest for peace.

Bruce was closed, concealed. His mission was fueled by anger and tragedy. For now.

Bruce was a warrior. Dylan was a peacekeeper.

Dylan had been nothing but appreciative, attentive, and complimentary. Diana was finding that she liked this kind of attention.

On the third morning of her stay, she awakened to the sound of her comlink buzzing on the nightstand. Diana grabbed the comlink and rolled onto her side, facing the windows that formed one wall of her room at the record companies oceanfront estate. Watching the waves roll onto the beach, she replied to the hail. "This is Wonder Woman."

"Hey, Di. Enjoying sunny California?"

A feeling of foreboding came over her. If he was contacting her, something had happened. "Flash, what is it?"

"We didn't want you to see it on the news this morning. Another victim turned up in Gotham last night."

"Who – how?"

"We haven't been briefed yet. I'm not sure when we will be. Bats is a little…crazed right now. Oracle caught a cargo van on a security feed leaving the victim in an alley. Bats chased it down and when he got to it, it was empty. Completely. Even though there is security footage showing it stop in a parking garage and nobody got out. He had GL fly the van up to the Watchtower hangar bay last night. Then he started tearing it apart. Every piece swabbed, scanned, analyzed. Then he makes Superman come and scan it again."

"Is he there now?"

"Yep. In the lab. He hasn't stopped since he brought it up last night. Hasn't slept or eaten. And is more….Batman…..than usual. The rookies were afraid to go into the hangar bay."

"Thanks Flash."

"He'll get him Di."

"I know."

She changed frequencies. "Wonder Woman to Batman."

"Hello, Princess. I'll assume that you've called for an update?"

Diana sighed. He sounded cold. Angry_._ "Please. Tell me about her."

After a short pause, with a softer tone, he told her about thirty year-old Deirdre Ward. She had struggled with depression all her life. Several suicide attempts were reported during adolescence. Things worsened, a year ago, after she was divorced from the child's father. She had sunk into a deep depression and most days didn't get out of bed. She had been prescribed a truckload of different anti-depressants and ECT, with very little improvement.

It was believed that she was taken leaving a therapy session. Several hours later she was left in the alley. Her legs had been broken. A number 5 on her thigh. They expected to find the cause of death to be an overdose of Phenobarbital.

Then he told her about the cargo van. It had been reported stolen earlier in the evening. They had found a small amount of trace evidence. Even if it was the victim's, it might give them some idea of where she'd been taken that evening.

When he finished, Diana remained silent.

"Diana?"

"Should I pull out of this benefit? As much as I don't want to give this monster any sense of supremacy by forcing me into hiding, I also don't want to disrespect the families by participating in such a public event. Especially while he's still out there killing."

"You're who public wants, Diana. That's one of the reasons they asked for you. You will inspire more donations. But I can see how it might make you uncomfortable. Whatever you decide, you know we'll support you. If you don't want to do it, I'll make sure that the Stone Foundation reaches their goal."

She wasn't surprised at his last comment. It very much like him to do such a thing. "Thank you. Will you do something else for me? Get some rest. Then go out and find him."

A short while later, she had pulled on a blue sundress and made her way to the beach. She stood at the water's edge and let the blue water washed over her toes. The sensation was soothing. It felt a little bit like being back on the island.

She had been missed inside. Dylan was walking up the beach toward her.

As he reached her, she saw the concern on his face. "Diana, are you ok? I saw the news reports out of Gotham."

Diana's back straightened a little more and she lifted her chin. "I'm fine. I'll be better when they catch him. I do need to discuss something with you, though."

He watched her intently as she described her concern for the families and her participation in the event. Their loved ones had died dressed as her. Despite her strong front, it was becoming more apparent that the situation was beginning to take its toll.

Diana was surprised as she felt herself pulled into a warm embrace. She didn't resist. It was clear that Dylan Stone let his emotions guide his actions and wasn't the least bit intimidated by who she was or what she could do. He soon pulled away and held her face between his hands.

"Diana, before you make a decision, I'm asking you to let me do two things. First, let me find out how the families feel. Second, let me show you what this money will be used for. I want you to feel good about going through with the performance."

They turned and walked together back to the house.

"Besides," he continued, "if you don't sing, you'll be disappointing a lot of kids."

"Kids?" She looked sideways with a questioning expression. This was a high priced ticket, how could a lot of kids be attending?

"Yeah, Bruce Wayne bought the whole floor section right after we announced you as the headliner. He donated all the tickets to youth organizations all over Gotham."


	8. Charity

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 7: Charity

"_Every good act is charity. A man's true wealth hereafter is the good that he does in this world to his fellows."_ **– Moliere**

He hadn't slept. He had managed to eat, shower, and change suits. With any luck, he could find a few hours to sleep before he prepared for patrol. He stopped by the control room before making his way to the teleporter. As he entered, Booster Gold had just taken a call from Washington.

"Hey Bats….." He trailed off as Batman glared at him.

"Uh... A call just came in from the Themyscirian Embassy. They wanted us to get a message to Diana. Somebody called on her private line from North Carolina. Something about needing help with recent arsons? I tried her but she's not responding to her comlink. I was told she contacted us shortly after she left and warned us of this – something about an in-ear monitor system for rehearsing?"

"Who?"

"Uh. Who?"

"Who. Called."

Booster pulled up on the computer where he had catalogued the message. "A therapist in Wilmington - Katherine Blakemore."

"I'll check it out." _So much for sleep._

Under cover of darkness, the Batplane hovered silently over downtown Wilmington. Batman rappelled down from the plane and dropped to the roof of the office building of Dr. Katherine Blakemore. He made his way to her office suite and silently entered.

The waiting room was deserted. A dim light was on in the back. He stood in the doorway and observed a woman sitting behind a desk with her eyes closed. Her right elbow was resting on the desk and she was holding her forehead in her left hand. She was talking on a cell phone.

"No Chief, I left a message…..yes, I know. It was probably presumptuous of me to call at all, given the fact that interstellar threats are the norm for her. I did suggest she might need some time away. Maybe she took my advice." She paused and listened for a moment to the individual on the other end of the line.

Batman quickly realized that Diana's recent need to get some distance from the League… _from him, _was somehow connected with this woman. As he listened to her finish the conversation, a mixture of uneasiness and anger swept over him as he began to suspect what Diana had discussed with this woman.

"I'm just worried that Josiah will get himself killed or kill someone else this time. I know you are. Please call me if you find him. This is a manifestation of an acute trauma and if it's not handled well I might lose him and not be able to get him back….. yes, I will let you know. Thank you."

She switched off the phone and jumped as she raised her head and caught sight of the scowling figure in front of her.

"Holy crap. You're Batman."

He ignored her surprise. "I understand you need help with something."

Her brow wrinkled as she frowned. "I'm sorry, I was expecting Diana. She gave me her number if -"

He used her words. "_Wonder Woman_ decided she _needed time away_. What did _you_ need?"

His tone almost emotionless, but with just the barest hint of hostility. She appeared to pick up on it though and flushed slightly. However, she was not deterred.

"One of my clients has been setting fire to people's homes. I just want to find him before someone else gets killed."

"Someone else?"

Kate Blakemore nodded, her expression conveying deep concern. "Josiah is twelve. A year ago his parents and two younger sisters were killed when their home caught fire. He made it out. Only him. He had no other family, so he went into foster care. Six months ago he set fire to his foster parents' home. Everyone got out safely. Josiah then went into a residential treatment facility, which is where I met him and became his therapist."

She stood up from the desk and walked over to the window. Gazing out over the glow of the city lights, she continued. " A month ago he was released and placed with a new foster family. Four nights ago he set fire to the foster families home. Then he ran. He's set fires every night since. All single family homes. By the time the fire or police department gets there, he's gone. Sooner or later someone won't make it out…. or he'll get shot by a scared homeowner. I need your help to find him before that happens."

"Why is he trying to hurt _these_ families?"

"He's not. He's trying to save them."

A short time later, the World's Greatest Detective had arranged additional patrol coverage in Gotham until he returned. Obtaining clearance from the authorities to sweep Wilmington at low altitude, he began his search for Josiah using a new Wayne-tech enhanced thermal imaging/microwave-emitting radar system that allowed him to scan the inside of homes for heat signatures. He began to systematically sweep the city for signs of Josiah.

It wasn't long before smoke was detected coming from one of the older, historic homes in Wilmington. A sweep of the home with the radar revealed three individuals that appeared to be sleeping upstairs and another individual moving on the lower floor, toward the center of the house.

Batman hovered the plane above the house and lowered himself to a window, deftly opened it and climbed inside. He quickly located the sleeping couple and their daughter and lowered them from the second floor window to the safety of the ground below with the de-cel cable anchored to the Batplane.

He quickly questioned the father about the layout of the house and learned there was a open-air courtyard in the interior. Releasing the grapnel, he left the ground, allowed the cable to carry him up over the house and dropped inside the courtyard. Around him, the fire raged on all four sides.

Josiah was quickly located using the thermal imaging in his cowl. He had been unable to get out and was hidden under a table in the center of the yard. A large gloved hand reached under the table, grabbed him by the front of his jacket and yanked him out. Batman fired off the grapple and allowed himself and the boy to be lifted out of the courtyard as the plane pulled slowly away from the building.

He directed the plane to maneuver above an apartment building nearby and dropped himself and Josiah to the roof. As soon as he was released, he tried to break away and ran toward the roof access doors to escape. Batman sighed as the boy tried to get away, and then fired off bolas that wrapped around his ankles and brought him to the ground.

Batman stalked over and bent over the struggling youth, grabbed the fabric of his jacket in a gloved hand and lifted him off the ground. He glared at the boy. "Stop," he said in his most menacing voice.

The boy stopped struggling and stared defiantly back at him. Batman dropped him to the ground and walked over to the edge of the roof down at the burning house below. Fire trucks and police had arrived on the scene. Although not in time to save the house below. It was a complete loss.

Batman turned to regard the teenager on the roof, who had begun to struggle to free himself again. As soon as he realized he was being watched, he stopped. The two stared at each other for several minutes.

"I'm not going back there."

"You aren't going to have a choice now." Batman crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I'll escape."

"Then they'll just move you to a juvenile detention instead of a treatment facility."

"Fine."

"Why is that fine?"

"I don't want treatment. They want me to go to therapy – grief therapy. If I go, then they'll want me to be OK with them being gone. I don't want to be OK with it."

Batman understood that. But he didn't understand everything. "Why did you set those houses on fire?"

Josiah looked back at him in confusion as if it hadn't occurred to him to think about why he was doing it.

A short time later, Batman turned Josiah over to the Wilmington Police Department and headed back to Katherine Blakemore's office. Again, he entered silently and heard her wrap up another conversation with Wilmington Police.

"Thank you Chief, I'm relieved….Yes, I'll be there first thing in the morning." She hung up the phone, then looked up, again startled at what she found in front of her.

He sat in the chair across from her desk and looked at her guardedly. She didn't hear it, but she saw his chest rise and fall as if he was taking a deep breath. He then asked one question.

"Why?"

Diana felt different somehow. She was back at the house in California. She sat on the patio and watched the sun set behind the Pacific Ocean.

They had spent two days visiting the various refuges that Stone Foundation had created. As an ambassador, she was aware of these conflicts, but had never borne witness to it directly. As part of the League, Diana was accustomed to saving mankind from various threats. However, her mission of peace had been distracted by ending destruction or cleaning up its aftermath. Certainly she'd helped raised money to do so, but she had never been exposed in such a way to the work of creating better lives for those in need.

Dylan had provided so much – but it eased just a fraction of the suffering she had witnessed over the last two days. They had first gone to a refugee camp. A long stream of refugees continued to flow into the camp and the supplies were not keeping pace. The foundation had been shipping in food and medical supplies nonstop. They had built shelters and hospital facilities. They were doing everything that they could but it wasn't fast enough to keep up with demand.

After they left the refugee camp, they traveled to a boarding school some distance removed from the war-torn regions of the continent. Here, children who had been orphaned as well as those who had families that needed aid, were receiving an education to prepare them for college and eventually a better life. The Stone Foundation helped support existing programs by funding scholarships, building facilities, and providing funds for operational costs. They had also begun to fund organizations interested in building new schools. There was a stark contrast between the children she had encountered in the refugee camp and the ones at school now focused on their futures. The difference was remarkable and unsettling.

The sound of the door of the estate closing and the fall of footsteps on the stone pavers broke her out of her reflection on the past few days.

Dylan sat at the table next to her, propping up a tablet computer in front of her. Diana didn't look away from the sunset. He pulled up several scanned documents and digital video files before he spoke.

"While we were away, I had the foundation staff make a trip to Gotham. They met with some of the families of the victims."

Diana spent the next half-hour reading letters and watching taped messages from the families of the victims in Gotham. By the time she had gone through them, tears were streaming down her face in relief and gratitude. Without realizing it, deep down she had been terrified that these families and the public would eventually blame her for what was the work of what was now clearly a serial killer.

The emotion and sentiment conveyed in these communications was of appreciation, strength, and _encouragement._ The good works she'd been responsible for had not been forgotten. If anything, the contrast between them and this evil that was on the loose in Gotham only highlighted her purpose and her mission. These families – all in times of crisis and grief – were encouraging her to continue. Their request was for her to honor their daughters by continuing her good works.

Diana looked back at the ocean, continuing to be overwhelmed in her emotions. Dylan reached out and squeezed her hand. "Diana, I hope you are now convinced that going through with this is not only the right thing to do, but what the families want as well. I think we can honor the victims with this. It means we'll need to change the tone of the event and we'll need to get back to work right away. We'll keep the song – but will need to make it….different."

Diana looked at him and nodded, eyes still glistening with tears and looking very much like the fading sunlight that reflected off the deep blue of the ocean behind her. Always a man driven by his emotions, Dylan Stone responded in the only way he knew how. He reached for her and pulled her into his arms in an expression of comfort.

As he pulled back, Diana recognized the look in his eyes. She knew what was coming next and in her state of emotional overload, she had no idea how to respond. So she let it happen. She let him pull her back to him and kiss her.

In that moment, the confusion that had led to her being here – or away from her own life temporarily – fell away. She sat back and smiled warmly at her host. She was no longer at a crossroads, her path was clearly defined. It wouldn't be an easy path, at least not at first, but she was finally convinced that it was the one she was meant to take.

He'd hacked into the outdoor security feeds of the estate owned by Dylan Stone's record company.

In the cave, Bruce was gripped by what he watched unfold on his computer screen. He felt sick. His heart began to pound so hard in his chest that he was certain that Kent could hear it at the Watchtower. Fortunately he hadn't put the suit on yet or Oracle would no doubt be calling concerned about the readings of his heart rate and respiration.

An hour later, Alfred walked briskly through the cave toward the training room. The scene he came upon gave him a momentary pause. Bruce was drenched in sweat and pounding the hell out of the one of the heavy bags. The message Alfred was about to relay would not improve his mood.

"Master Bruce, the Batsignal is up. Gotham Network News is reporting multiple escaped prisoners from Arkham."

Just after dawn the next morning, Bruce sat in the kitchen, watching the morning news reports and not eating the breakfast Alfred had made for him. Physical and mental exhaustion had done little to temper Bruce's frustration. If anything it, it had grown.

The news was covering the crime spree in Gotham last night. Four prisoners had escaped Arkham – Ivy, Two-Face, Joker and Harley. They had been far too easy to round up. He had immediately gone to work with his team and had the four of them in custody within a few hours. Certainly widespread chaos, but no loss of life.

Then the call came.

While they were rounding up the escapees, another body was found dumped across town by Gotham's own Wonder Woman obsessed serial killer. Jessica Rafferty, twenty-seven, was a product of the foster care system, she had no relatives or family that have been identified. Multiple arrests in adolescence for petty theft. More recently she had done time at Blackgate Penitentiary for grand larceny. She had been released on parole three months ago.

The victim was found dressed as Wonder Woman, with all of her fingers broken and the number "4" carved on the back of both hands. No cause of death had been identified yet, but it was suspected to be a massive overdose of Phenobarbital, as it had with the others. No eye witnesses or trace evidence was found.

For Bruce, however, this victim was different. Arkham had been quiet – too quiet – for weeks. When the last body had been dumped, the suspect came closer to being caught. Conveniently, an escape at Arkham allowed the next victim to be left behind easily, without detection. It was one hell of a coincidence. Bruce didn't believe in coincidences.

The news caught Bruce's attention again as it moved on to a report of the Stone Foundation benefit concert to be held the next evening. A press release was read about the Stone Foundation's intention to continue as planned, including the main attraction. The report goes on to describe the emotional support – and possibly more – being provided the princess by her new friend Dylan Stone. Still photos of Diana and Stone on the patio of an oceanfront estate flashed on the screen. The scene was exactly what he had seen last evening, but clearly taken from a telephoto lens off-shore.

Bruce left his breakfast untouched and descended into the depths of the cave, on his way back to the training room. He hadn't yet purged himself of enough of the frustration, despite the fact that last night he put several of Arkham's escapees into the infirmary.

_Across town from Wayne Manor, in a small, modest home in an ordinary neighborhood, another also watched the news reports of Dylan Stone and Wonder Woman with rapt attention and growing frustration. _

_A photograph of the two, Wonder Woman's face cradled in the man's hands._

_A photograph of the two, the man's arm wrapped around Wonder Woman's shoulders._

_A photograph of the two, Wonder Woman wrapped in the man's intimate embrace._

_There was blinding rage. _

"_Whore."_

Sometime later that morning, Dick found Bruce in front of the supercomputer, going over the victim's files, looking for connections between any of them and any of the inmates or personnel at Arkham Asylum.

"Bruce? How long are you going to wait before you finally do something about this? You can't just watch her forever. At some point it will be too late. She'll move on and there is going to be someone with her. Do you think you'll be able to stand watching then?" Dick nodded up at the live security feed displayed on one of the screens. It was just after daybreak on the west coast. Diana was sitting on the beach talking with Dylan Stone, their backs to the camera.

"There's an active threat against a League member. Close surveillance is necessary."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Then why only by you? Why torture yourself? Remember who you are talking to and don't bother trying to tell me it doesn't bother you that she's there with him."

"Fine. It bothers me. But I have time."

Both looked up at the screen and continued to watch the pair. They watched as Diana put her hand up to her ear, receiving a communication from the Watchtower. Bruce knew what it would be. He'd asked Clark to call her about the latest victim. It would be easier for her if it came from him.

Her shoulders slumped briefly as she heard the news, then her back straightened and her chin lifted. Her Amazon upbringing would never let her down. She turned her head toward her companion, both profiles visible to the camera. They now were talking seriously, the tone of the conversation more somber.

"You're sure? How do you know she hasn't moved on already? "

"It's Diana. Her feelings wouldn't change that quickly."

They continued to watch as Dylan Stone put his around Diana and pulled her closer. She allowed him and leaned into his shoulder. He tilted his head toward her to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Father and son watched the scene in silence.

"Bruce, did you love Selina? Talia?"

Bruce frowned. "Yes."

"Did you immediately stop when you decided it wouldn't work with them?"

"No."

Dick walked over to his motorcycle and put on his helmet. Just before he was about to race out the tunnel to make his way to Gotham PD Headquarters, he turned to Bruce one last time. "Did those feelings stop you from falling in love with Diana?"


	9. Song

A/N: I ask your forgiveness in advance for the cheesiness about to ensue. I couldn't help myself. The song just….fits. _However,_ I ask that in your mind you deviate from the original for this chapter as there are many covers that fit the mood much better. If you are so inclined, clips of all are easily accessed on itunes. Some are rather bad, so in case you're interested, versions from LiTaL, Jann Arden, & Cherri & the Violators served as inspiration. Call it research or call it batty – either works for me. J

Anyway, try to make it through the cheesy as this chapter also throws in some BMWW moments and more evidence that I have watched far too many reruns of Criminal Minds. (Didja catch it last night?). Please bear with it - there's more action and 'action' in future chapters.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, lyrics, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 8: Song

_Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet._** - **_**Plato**_

Bruce was seated between Dick and Tim in a private box for the Stone Foundation Benefit Concert. The three were enjoying the show, or so it appeared.

From their vantage point, the three scanned the crowd watching for anything or anyone suspicious. The performance in Gotham could very well draw out their prey. If he was indeed obsessed with Diana, the opportunity to watch her in person while being able to melt into the crowd undetected was too good of an opportunity to pass up. At least that's what Batman hoped.

Given the chance their serial killer would make an appearance, the Justice League was well represented at the event. Although he wasn't likely to admit it to himself or anyone else, particularly to her, but for Bruce this security detail was also designed to help assure Diana's safety.

Bruce Wayne, having purchased a vast number of tickets for local youth organizations, was in attendance. As expected, he was accompanied by his two adult sons. However, an active threat against a member of the League made Batman's absence in Gotham particularly conspicuous. With some help from J'onn, they both were present. True to character, "Batman" hovered in the shadows, keeping a protective watch over Diana.

The media was also out in full force for the event. This included two reporters from the Daily Planet – Clark Kent and Lois Lane, who were seated in the press box. Superman was also close by.

Green Lantern and Green Arrow kept watch outside of the theatre while Shayera was up in the Watchtower running facial recognition software loaded with every one of Gotham's most wanted and Justice League enemy.

Huntress, Question, Black Canary, and Zatanna, the Leaguers most familiar with Gotham, were patrolling the city in case the killer decided instead that it would be a good time to deposit a fifth victim.

Everything was in place. Now they just waited for something to happen.

So far, the evening had been uneventful.

Diana was scheduled to perform last with Dylan Stone. Bruce felt his anticipation and apprehension growing by the moment.

Finally, it was time. The lights dimmed. Soft, bass-heavy music began to play. The lights on stage slowly came up.

_My God._

She was seated on a tall stool in front of the band. Dylan Stone was just to her right.

As expected, Wonder Woman was not appearing in her familiar uniform and armor this evening. Instead she was dressed in a Grecian-inspired long black tank dress. There was a slit up the right leg to mid thigh. A gold cord was wrapped around her waist and torso. On her feet were gold sandals, with straps wrapping up her leg. The only visible pieces of her usual costume were the bracers on her wrists. Her raven tendrils cascaded loosely over her shoulders.

The vision of her was enchanting. The sound of her was captivating. Bruce was frozen, mesmerized. Truth be told, so was much of the crowd.

_We are young_

_Heartache to heartache _

_We stand_

_No promises _

_No demands _

_Love is a battlefield_

This version was entirely different from the original in the tone and the seriousness it conveyed. It was evocative. If it were possible, it was even fitting given the current circumstances.

Bruce's heart was pounding. His initial apprehension gave way to another feeling that swept through him at the sound of her soft breathless words. This feeling was a familiar one - overwhelming need. He needed her.

_We are strong_

_No one can tell us we're wrong_

_Searching our hearts for so long_

_Both of us knowing_

_Love is a battlefield_

In the spotlight and with darkness filling in behind her, she faced the crowd searching out one set of ice -blue eyes. Bruce's breath caught as their eyes locked. It would have been impossible for the average human, but her meta-enhanced senses allowed her eyes to find his easily in the darkness. It quickly became clear in the grip of her intense gaze, that she was sending him a message.

_You're begging me to go_

_You're making me to stay_

_Why do you hurt me so bad?_

_It would help me to know_

_Do I stand in your way?_

_Or am I the best thing you've had?_

_Believe me, believe me_

_I can't tell you why_

_But I'm trapped by your love_

_And chained to your side_

Her eyes pulled away from his as she shared her attention with the audience and her companions. She stood and walked to the front of the stage. As she sang, she leaned over and shook hands with the adolescents and young adults that the Wayne Foundation had packed into the area just in front of her. Bruce did this because it would make Diana happy. For Batman, of course, it was part of a plan to make it almost impossible for anyone over the age of 21 to get close to Diana onstage, without looking out of place.

Diana returned to center stage and once again, she was captured within the spotlight as it darkened behind her, the musicians fading into the blackness. As if it was only her up there. Once again, two pairs of blue eyes found each other.

_When I'm losing control_

_Will you turn me away?_

_Or touch me deep inside?_

_And if all this gets old_

_Will it still feel the same?_

_There's no way this will die_

_But if we get much closer I could lose control_

_And if your heart surrenders _

_You'll need me to hold_

As she released her hold on him, again her attention was directed elsewhere as Bruce tracked every movement she made onstage.

_We are young_

_Heartache to heartache_

_We stand_

_No promises_

_No demands_

_Love is a battlefield_

_We are strong_

_No one can tell us we're wrong_

_Searching our hearts for so long_

_Both of us knowing_

_Love is a battlefield_

The music continued as Diana stopped singing. Only Dylan Stone put down his guitar and walked to Diana, taking her hand and pulling her close. They began to dance slowly. Having been a central focus of media attention nation- and world-wide in the last week, the crowd responded with enthusiastic approval. Bruce did not.

The clear physical familiarity and ease Stone clearly felt with the princess – his princess – gave way to another emotion. This was a less familiar feeling. This feeling was pure jealously. This is what it would feel like – what it felt like – to see her with someone else. It wasn't the rumbling of anger and irritation that were triggered by her periodic associations with Superman in the media_._ This feeling included desperation. It included fear. It crystallized into one thought. _Mine._

The two pulled away from each other. Stone paused before releasing her to brush his lips across the back of her hand before retrieving his guitar. Bruce stiffened and glared. As it turned out, Bruce Wayne's angry glare was every bit as terrifying as Batman's.

On either side of him, Dick and Tim exchanged a knowing look as they observed the clenched fists and struggle to regain Bruce Wayne's placid expression. Dick leaned over and whispered, "Bruce. Go." Bruce remained silent as the sound of her voice surrounded them again.

After a moment, he muttered "stay sharp". He didn't know for sure what he wanted to do or what he wanted to say, but he began making his way through the crowd anyway.

As the performance concluded, Bruce headed backstage. His conspicuous VIP pass allowed him to be relatively free of individuals wanting access to tabloid-favorite Bruce Wayne. Although this evening, they had many others available to occupy their attention.

He turned the corner into the long hallway that housed many of the theater's dressing rooms. Bruce stopped short as he came upon Renee Montoya and Dr. Gesine Mastles at the far end of the hallway, attempting to engage J'onn/Batman in conversation just outside of Diana's dressing room. After another moment they began to walk away from J'onn and in his direction.

Bruce contacted J'onn telepathically. _"What did they want?"_

"_They asked if I had anything new on the investigation."_

"_What did they want?"_

"_That is what Ms. Montoya wanted. As for the other – "_

"_Gesine Mastles."_

"_She did act as though we'd met before, but I couldn't be certain."_

That gave Bruce a moment's pause. _"You couldn't?"_

"_No. I found it as difficult to read her thoughts as I do yours or Shayera's."_

At this point, Bruce passed them in the hallway as he made his way toward Diana's room. Without stopping, Renee Montoya nodded to him, "Good evening, Mr. Wayne."

"Ms. Montoya," he returned.

Dr. Mastles, in turn, met his gaze and flashed him a wide smile.

With the roar of applause unyielding, Diana escaped from the stage and made her way to her dressing room. A small fraction of the stress she'd been experiencing over the last couple of weeks subsided as she fulfilled her duty to the foundation. She uttered a quick prayer of thanks to Apollo. It was a small amount of relief though, as the crisis in Gotham continued.

Despite the evening's brief reprieve, the general mood of the city was palpable – a populous gripped with fear. A serial killer was on the loose. Even Gotham, a city often overrun by the madness of criminals, was not numb to it. They were waiting, hoping, that the Batman would again save the day. She knew him well and although they had not spoken since right after she had gone to California, Diana knew Bruce was frustrated – most likely devoting every spare moment to tracking this killer.

_Bruce._ It wasn't a long time she knew, but it had been nearly two weeks away from the League and away from Bruce. The knowledge that he'd be there did little to prepare her for how she felt seeing his indescribably handsome face watching her so intently. Her song choice had, of course, been deliberate.

She smiled softly to herself as she recalled the dozens of red roses in her dressing room, all delivered without cards. _Typical._ The vast number of them more than assured that she would know who had sent them.

Still pondering Bruce's state of mind, Diana entered her dressing room, stopping short as she realized that the man in her thoughts was there waiting for her. He looked uncharacteristically vulnerable.

He didn't look up as she entered. "Bruce?"

Silence.

"BRUCE." More forcefully.

"Do you love him?"

Diana leaned against the door and whispered softly. "Look at me."

Reluctantly he raised his head and looked into her eyes.

"Bruce, in my long life, I've only been in love but once - with you. I love you despite your reasons that I shouldn't, despite your attempts to push me away, and despite the cold way that you exclude me from your life. My attempts to make it fade have met with no success so far. I can't deny it. I don't want to."

Bruce walked toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck. A choked, barely audible whisper came out. "Why?"

"Why?"

"Why. How. How can you with the way I've behaved? How I am? What I am?"

Diana pulled back and laid her right hand on his left cheek and forced him to look into her eyes. "What you are? Bruce, there are so many things about you to love. Your unrelenting drive to accomplish your goals. The selfless way you sacrifice yourself to protect others. Your strength, your leadership, and the way you save us all, time and again with that brilliant mind and indomitable willpower. There are many reasons that I love you."

He had closed his eyes as she spoke, almost as if he couldn't bear to hear her words. She sighed. They had a lot to work through. _But not right now._

She smiled softly as she brushed his lips with hers. Bruce's eyes flew open. His breath was ragged as they searched each other's eyes. In them, she could see the conflict that still raged within. In those few seconds, the conflict ended as he brought his hands up to thread them through her raven curls. He pulled her into a searing kiss as her lips parted instinctively to allow his tongue access to caress her own.

Their kisses deepened as Bruce pushed her back against the door. One hand untangled from her tresses and slid its way up her thigh, under the slit in her dress and pulled her hips closer to his. The passion they had denied for so long quickly grew until a knock came at the door from behind Diana.

Bruce and Diana broke from their kiss, to look at each other once again. Both breathless, they gazed at each other hungrily.

From outside, "Diana? Do you still hear that applause Diana – you were amazing!"

Dylan Stone.

In a split second, Diana watched the look in Bruce's eyes change from barely contained desire to animosity and anger. She gently pushed away from the door and led him by the hand across the room.

"Diana? Are you okay?" from outside.

Never losing eye contact with Bruce, she called out over her shoulder toward the door. "One moment Dylan."

Diana wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him gently and affectionately. Before she left him to open the door, she whispered in his ear. "I love _you_ Bruce Wayne."

It was her desire that her words and actions would facilitate the reemergence of Bruce Wayne's vacuous expression. It didn't. As she caught sight of her own flushed cheeks and tousled hair in the mirror, she knew that she wouldn't be able to conceal anything – even if Bruce were to bother to try and he didn't seem inclined to do so.

Diana opened the door and allowed Dylan Stone entry. He walked into the room as Diana pushed the door closed behind her.

It took just seconds for him to take in the meaning of Diana's disheveled appearance and the glare Bruce Wayne had fixed on him.

"Really Diana?" He frowned. "Bruce Wayne?"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she held her tongue and let him continue.

"When you told me that anything more than friendship with me would be impossible while you were in love with someone else, I figured my competition was a superhero like you. Superman, maybe. Or even the creepy one lurking outside in the shadows who won't take his eyes off of you. But Bruce Wayne? My competition is the biggest womanizer in the Western Hemisphere? To say I'm surprised is an understatement. I'm not sure anyone truly is, but certainly _he_ is nowhere near good enough for you."

Diana held her breath as Bruce walked forcefully across the room to stand between them. He turned his back on Dylan to face her. Taking her hand, he brushed his lips across her knuckles and leaned forward to gently kiss her cheek.

"I hope to see you at the reception later?" She nodded in return.

Bruce then turned around to face Dylan Stone, standing his full 6 ft, 2 inches. They were eye to eye.

"Do you think I don't know that I'm not good enough for her? I just hope that she'll have me anyway."

A few minutes after Bruce's departure and she had explained that she would not be engaging in any further discussion with him about Bruce Wayne, Diana and Dylan were in the back of a limousine on their way to a reception on the roof of Wayne Towers. The post-concert function was sponsored by the Wayne Foundation in an effort to squeeze a little more charity out of Gotham's rich and famous.

In front of the main entrance, Bruce stood with Wayne Enterprises private security team and a small contingent of Gotham PD that included Commissioner Gordon. Scanning the buildings around Wayne Tower, Bruce picked up the silhouettes of several of his teammates in the shadows.

The limousine carrying Wonder Woman drove up the well-lit street and stopped at the curb.

A dark figure sat in a nearby window, high above the street below. The figure began to chant.

The driver opened the door to the limousine and Diana emerged, a vision of poise and grace. Dylan Stone was close behind.

Bruce walked toward the car to claim the princess and escort her upstairs to the reception.

_**Transporto viscus mortuus **_

_**mulier iratus ut mulier admiratio**_

Between Bruce and Diana, a black haze formed and thickened.

_**Transporto viscus mortuus **_

_**mulier iratus ut mulier admiratio**_

The thick black fog dissipated to reveal a figure lying prone on the sidewalk. Tall, black hair, and the familiar red, blue, white and gold.

Despite the fact that the individual had apparently been badly beaten and her face was obscured, it took only seconds for Bruce and Diana to recognize that the victim was someone they both knew.


	10. Patience

A/N: This was my first venture into a chapter like this and I just needed it to go up already. Apologies for incoherent sentences, thoughts, and general need of extreme editing. I have yet to venture into the world of betas. I'll probably give it a day or two and go back to it, but none of the story points will change (what there is of them).

**UPDATE ON 5/17 INCLUDES 2 CHAPTERS SO IF YOU'VE NOT READ 'SONG' YOU MAY WANT TO GO BACK. :-)**

Chapter 9: Patience

"_Patience is not passive; on the contrary, it is active; it is concentrated strength."_ **– Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton**

He knew who it was almost instantly. In fact, every League member and police officer present knew immediately who it was. The Wonder Woman uniform covered very little, so the green dragon tattoo that ran up her leg and wrapped around her torso was clearly visible. Roulette.

_What the hell?_

With the efficiency of a computer, Bruce's brain started processing the situation, rapidly prioritizing the actions that needed to be taken.

Diana was first priority. He looked at frozen expression of horror and rage and could tell she was struggling to maintain her composure. Bruce wanted nothing more than to go and comfort her but right now her safety needed to be his primary concern. Whomever the serial killer was, they had access to some serious magic, which made Diana a lot more difficult to protect.

Since Bruce Wayne couldn't take command of the situation, he contacted J'onn telepathically. _J'onn, tell Zatanna to get to Wayne Towers immediately. Have Superman to scan the buildings around the plaza for anything suspicious. He knew exactly where to drop this body and when so he has to be close by. Lantern should get down here to seal off the scene. I don't want anything natural or magical getting near it. And while you are doing that, get Diana out of here – now - and teleport her to the Watchtower. With this kind of magic in play, he could get to her almost anywhere. _

The sight was almost surreal as he watched 'himself' swing down from a nearby building to pick up Diana and dematerialize in a flash of white light.

Jim Gordon barked out orders for the GCPD to seal off the block and get statements from the eyewitnesses. "Mr. Wayne." he stated, deliberately loud enough for many of the others to hear, "We're sealing off the block. Please go home. We will come to get your statement there. Could you also get in touch with Detective Grayson? We've got another crime scene to process."

Bruce nodded at him appreciatively. "Of course Commissioner. As our activities for the evening are apparently to be cancelled, my guests will need contacted. I can easily do that from the Manor."

Bruce briskly walked to Alfred in the nearby limo and climbed into the backseat. He pressed his hand to a panel behind the seat and a compartment opened to reveal the Batsuit. He quickly changed in the car and requested immediate transport to the Watchtower.

He materialized on the Watchtower to find Diana standing in front of the teleporter pad waiting for him. J'onn and Shayera were behind her, looking concerned.

"I'm coming," she said.

Saying nothing, he walked over to her and engulfed her fully in his arms, her arms to her sides. He whispered into her ear, so the others couldn't hear. "No. You're staying here, Diana. He's using magic and he's good. If we aren't careful he'll get to you when he wants to. He _will_ want to. Let's not make it easier for him."

He could feel the tension surround her at the word "No". She stood stiffly and didn't move. Her warrior instincts were at war with her calm, logical mind. The entire situation had been somewhat removed from her until now. She had just heard about the deaths of people that she didn't know. Now she's actually seen the victim and it's someone she knows. Not a friend of course, but tonight everything more real.

Diana stepped back from him as he released her. She looked directly at him with what could only be described as an angry glare. He'd actually been on the receiving end of that look many times before. This time, however, a sudden wave of uneasiness swept over him.

Abruptly she turned on her heel and strode out of the room. Even with his face partially obscured by the cowl, his apprehension must have shown in his expression. Shayera raised an eyebrow at him and grinned. J'onn on the other hand, just gave him a sympathetic look.

_Damn._

Batman transported back into the middle of the crime scene in the plaza in front of Wayne Towers. Gotham's finest was keeping the media and onlookers at bay, while Green Lantern had formed a protective dome around the crime scene. Whatever evidence existed, Bruce wanted to prevent anything from destroying it – especially magic. Green Lantern's power ring would provide as much protection as was available.

Detective Dick Grayson, still on special assigned to the Gotham PD task force that had been created to investigate this series of murders, kneeled next to the body wearing protective gloves. Next to him stood the Commissioner and Superman, who was scanning the victim and surrounding area with his enhanced vision.

The three looked at him as Batman entered the green dome. "Why isn't she still in a Bludhaven jail?"

Gordon answered this question. "I just got word from Bludhaven PD that bail was posted this morning."

"And nobody there thought that the League should be informed? LexCorp attorneys and LexCorp money." He didn't bother waiting for a response.

Batman turned next to Superman, "Anything?"

Superman shook his head. "I'm not picking up anything unusual on the victim. Well, compared to the others. No trace evidence. It looks like blunt force trauma to the head was cause of death, although I suspect another large dose of Phenobarbital will be found in her bloodstream. No, nothing unusual in any of the buildings surrounding the area. Are you sure they would have to be close by?"

"Teleporting something that large under your own power would take substantial magical ability. It's most likely that he and the victim would be close by, especially with the placement of the body so precise. But there's no guarantee…." Batman turned and scanned the area around them. "Where's Zee?"

Three blank expressions looked back at him. Shaking his head, he activated his communicator. "J'onn, did you reach Zatanna?"

"No, when I was unable reach her telepathically or by comlink, I left word with Question to bring her to the crime scene immediately. She has not yet been in contact?"

"No." He changed frequencies. "Q. Huntress. Have you found Zatanna?"

Question responded. "We found her just seconds ago. She's unconscious. No obvious injuries."

"Get her to the med bay. Have me contacted immediately when she wakes up." He turns back to his companions. "Detective, what's the story with this one?"

Dick Grayson didn't look up. "As you know, the victim Is Veronica Sinclair, aka. Roulette. Owner of Meta-Brawl, Bludhaven. Haven't discovered number "3" carved anywhere, but it might take awhile for the medical examiner to locate, if it's there. She was very badly beaten – probably COD being blunt force trauma and internal bleeding. Roulette was known to be a master martial artist, so it would go to reason that she would need to be subdued for that much physical damage to be done to her. Probably drugged like all of the other victims, but in this case she could have been magically subdued as well."

Dick paused to look around the scene and determine what else needed to be done with collecting evidence. "It looks like we just need to finish video and stills of the crime scene, then we'll be prepared to move her to the morgue."

Batman interjected. "I don't want her moved until I can get Zatanna down here to scan the scene."

Realizing that he had no idea if Zatanna was going to be available any time soon, he called out to GL. "Green Lantern, see what your ring can detect around the victim."

Green Lantern dropped the dome and began a thorough scan the area for energy signatures. "Not surprisingly, I've picked up some strong magical signatures – can't narrow it down past that yet."

Commissioner Gordon spoke up, "Ok, we can't wait for your resident sorceress to wake up." He calls over to one of the lieutenants, "Get the ME in here. It's time we rolled her over and get her to the morgue."

A few minutes later the Medical Examiner arrived. He and an assistant made quick work of preparing the body for transport, covering it with a while sheet and lifting it onto a stretcher. As they lifted off of the ground, two symbols became visible, scorched in black into the concrete: a spoked device with eight equidistant arrows radiating from a central point and a crescent moon turned to face a small five-point star.

Batman squatted next to the scorched pavement. He growled and his eyes narrowed as he recognized the symbols on the ground. "The first one is a Chaos star, the adopted symbol for Chaos Magic."

He looked up and met Superman's gaze. "The second is the Crescent Moon and Star. In the occult, formed like that, it represents the Goddess Diana and the star of Lucifer."

After the crime scene had been cleared, Batman headed back up to the Watchtower Med Bay. Zatanna was still unconscious, but her vitals indicated that she could wake up soon. He laid a gloved hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. "Zatanna."

Nothing. He shook her a little harder. "Zee."

She covered her face with one hand and rolled away with her back to him. Still groggy, "Bruce, go away. I have a headache."

He smiled. "Since when?"

"Ugh. Funny." she groaned as she started to become aware of where she was. "What happened?"

"You tell me. Q and Huntress found you unconscious on the roof of Ace Chemical in Gotham."

Zatanna sat up and blinked her eyes as if the movements were painful. "I don't know. I was observing some of Gotham's 'thugs in training' from above the street, then there was a blinding pain in my head before everything went black."

"When?"

"Not sure. The last thing I remember was getting a communication that Wonder Woman was on her way to Wayne Towers. Then with the blinding headache and unconsciousness. The only thing that I can compare it to – and this was in no way as painful – is when Diana and Shayera went to Tartarus to restore Hades to the throne. The balance of good and evil disrupted, blah, blah, blah. Any ideas?"

Batman stood. "Maybe. Get some rest."

He left Zatanna's room and made his way to the room Diana kept on the Watchtower. He punched in her code and entered to find it empty. He didn't bother contacting the control room to ascertain her position. Instead he walked the short distance to the next likely place she would be.

Batman walked into the training room to find it completely destroyed. He went to the computer terminal and pulled up the last person who had logged in, not at all surprised when he received his answer. She had apparently gone through every single training simulation and destroyed each adversary that was sent out to her. They lay in piles of rubble around the room. _Wonderful._

He made his way back to the control room. Shayera was still there. Wally was with her. _Perfect._

As he entered, they stopped talking and watched him in silence. He walked over the computer terminal to call up her location on the supercomputer. After a second, he discovered that she was in New York. With growing irritation he turned to look at the two superheroes currently watching him in silence.

"She's in New York. Is Donna back?"

Shayera responded, "No, they aren't scheduled to return for at least three more days."

Now the irritation was approaching anger as he alternated glares between them. "And you let her leave the Watchtower alone? Shayera, did you not understand that I had requested she remain here?"

Shayera snorted. "Let her? Did you see the training room? It apparently wasn't enough to release her frustration, because when she finished the simulations, she started looking for someone to spar with. Not surprisingly, there were no takers."

Flash chimed in, "Yeah, Captain Marvel was so scared he went all Billy Batson right here on the Watchtower so she wouldn't make him fight her."

The uneasiness was back, but nonetheless he walked to the transporter pad and punched in the coordinates.

Batman was not one to charge into battle without a little reconnaissance first. He looked at this situation the same way.

So, instead of transporting into the middle of Diana's home, he opted for the roof of the building and cautiously made his way to the penthouse apartment below. He dropped to the balcony outside her living room and entered silently through the glass doors.

It was dark inside the apartment, but with the night vision lenses, he had no difficulty scanning the room. The subtle, yet familiar Valentino jasmine, tuberose, and orange blossom scented body wash he had once given her as a gift wafted over his senses.

Diana had been ready for him. She had waited, hovering above while he silently entered the room. As soon as the door closed behind him she took him by surprise and deftly removed his cowl like only someone who knew its defensive mechanisms could.

He could see nothing as the blackness enveloped him.

"Umph." He felt himself roughly being slammed hard up against the glass door. Hard, but not quite hard enough to send him flying through the glass.

He felt her press up against him as she whispered into his ear, "Bruce, we still need to talk."

Alarms went off in his mind as involuntary responses erupted through his body. He willed his hands to remain at his side. For now. He hated magic and right now his paranoia was running rampant. Was Diana fully in control, or had someone or something else gotten to her and inspired this….behavior?

As often was the case, she seemed to know the reason for his silence. She stepped back two feet away from him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Meeting his gaze with what could only be described as a predatory smile, she said, "It's me, Bruce. There is only me in here."

As she laid her right hand on her chest over her heart to emphasize her point, he had the opportunity to take in the sight of her. Her perfect form was dressed in a sheer black embroidered baby doll that he recognized as La Perla. Nothing was left to the imagination. The fact that she had taken the time to procure such an – ensemble – made objective quite clear.

Diana stayed at arm's length however, and her expression became more serious. As she spoke, she slowly brought one hand up to lift his chin and direct his gaze to hers. "Now that I have your attention, I have a few questions."

"Of course," he rasped, forcing himself to focus exclusively on her beautiful face and listen to her words.

"It hardly seems like it was just hours ago, but I need for us to continue our earlier conversation. As I recall it, we covered how I feel, Bruce – which in all honestly shouldn't have come as a surprise to you. Aside from your comments to Dylan, you've yet had very little to say."

She continued, as if she expected that he wouldn't be able to express himself. "Regardless of the fact that you have on multiple occasions felt the need to remind me to have patience, I believe that where are you are concerned Bruce Wayne, I have shown remarkable restraint and self-control. That restraint has now been exhausted. It ends now. In the last month, I've learned much about myself. I have decided that even for an immortal Amazon princess, time is precious and should not be wasted. I do not want to waste another moment that I could spend being happy. So, to facilitate a crystal-clear resolution to our current conflict, I will try and simply this for you as much as possible."

His gaze had moved from her blue eyes to her full cherry-red lips as she was speaking.

"Bruce?" His ice-blue eyes again met her cerulean ones. "Do you love me?"

He stared at her. "Of course I do." His voice was soft, rough, unsure. "God knows I've tried not to. I just don't have the strength to keep denying it anymore. I don't know what it will mean to my mission, the league, and for you. But I do love you."

Diana smiled. "Then I'm not asking for guarantees, but will you promise to try? To try and let me in? To share what's inside? To help me understand those issues you speak of? I want so much for you to be happy, Bruce. I just don't think you can do that shutting everyone out. Be happy. Let someone in – even if it isn't me."

Then came a whisper, barely perceptible to mortal ears, but one he knew she would hear loud and clear.

"It's you, Princess. It's always been you. It will always be you."

Time stood still for several moments as they stood frozen in place, frozen in time, looking into each other's eyes. There were no more words spoken.

They crashed into each other. The floodgates opened and all of the long-restrained emotion, passion, desire, and devotion crashed around them.

He pulled her to him, his lips pushed against hers, and his tongue sought entrance to engage it's partner in a sensual dance. Still pressed against the windows, Bruce rolled them until she was pressed up against the glass. He quickly stripped off his gloves and both hands skimmed their way up her curves to her full breasts. Both hands reached inside the flimsy fabric and freed them of their constraints, cupping one in each hand and rubbing the pads of his thumbs across her nipples which had now become tight, pink buds.

A moan escaped her as his mouth left hers and traced their way along her collarbone to capture one between his lips, drawing one and then the other roughly into his mouth until Diana arched against him, tangling her fingers in his black hair and pushing herself further into him.

Bruce pulled away momentarily to allow her to help pull the Kevlar armor over his head. She pulled her head away with a smile as he reached forward to capture her lips in another kiss. Suddenly she reversed their position again and pushed his back against the cool glass. Her hands moved slowly down his torso and she lowered herself to her knees as she pushed down his Kevlar pants and freed his now throbbing erection.

His body stilled in confusion as he felt the touch of her lips and tongue caressing his length in a very deliberate and adept manner. "Diana," he croaked out, "I thought you hadn't…."

She sat back on her heals and looked up at him with a wicked grin. She responded the only way he wanted to hear. "I haven't, Bruce. Aphrodite has bestowed many blessings."

With a growl that rumbled deep in his chest, he pulled her to her feet and lifted her up against him. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her off to the bedroom.

He gently laid her on the bed and continued his ministrations with his lips and tongue, eventually sinking into her and joining them together. They moved together in the most primitive of rituals. He watched her face intently as the waves of bliss washed over her and she cried out his name.

He stilled briefly as they remained locked together, gazing deeply into each other's eyes. The relief that reflected in his blue eyes caught Diana by surprise.

Easily picking up on her concern, he blushed adorably, but nevertheless explained. "Princess, you are insensitive to pain and insensitive to cold…I have been concerned that you wouldn't be …. compatible….. in this way with a mere mortal."

As she began to move against him in response and encouraged him to his own release, she smiled again and whispered back, "Blessings of Aphrodite, Bruce."

They continued for hours to try make up for all of the time they had lost, finally collapsing in exhaustion as the sun began to rise over the Atlantic. As Diana drifted off to sleep, sated, contented, and in love, Bruce whispered gently into her ear. "Princess, I know I have much to tell you and much work to do, but I meant what I said. I promise to try."


	11. Temperance Part 1

A/N: A special thanks to DaisyJane for allowing me to tap into her Wonder Woman expertise.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Temperance: Part 1

_Temperance – moderation in self-restraint or action, statement, etc.; self-control _()

Bruce awakened just a few hours after he and Diana had drifted off into a sated slumber. He looked down at her sleeping form draped across him and allowed himself the luxury of watching her sleep. After a few minutes, he slid carefully out of the bed, trying not to disturb her.

After he went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, he went to retrieve his suit, still on the floor of the living room where Diana had deposited it last night. He pulled the communicator out of his cowl and contacted the manor. He seriously hoped it would be Alfred that picked up.

"Wayne residence." _Damn, it's Dick._

"Anything on Roulette since last night?" Bruce asked.

"Hey '_Dad', _what's new?"

Bruce sighed. He could tell by the tone of Dick's voice that there was fun to be had at his expense.

"Roulette?"

Dick continued as if he hadn't been asked a question.

"So, I got a call last night – or rather this morning – as a result of some _concern_ over your safety. Apparently the heart rate monitor in the Batsuit _spiked_ around 2 AM then went dead completely. No readings at all. Like it wasn't being worn anymore. Yet, you hadn't come home. When your location was tracked, we discovered that it was - and apparently still is - in New York City."

"You finished?"

"Almost." Bruce could hear Dick's grin. "I would like nothing better than to push for details, but I know I won't get any and even if I thought I would, I certainly do not want an angry Amazon overhearing as she could lay both of us out, barely lifting a finger."

"Now are you finished?"

"Just two more things. One – Alfred is now in a state of utter bliss. And two – it's about goddamn time. Ok, now I'm done."

"Roulette."

"Ah, yes. I just checked in with the Medical Examiner – apparently they put the autopsy on an official priority status since that guy wouldn't voluntarily work on a Sunday morning. Still waiting for toxicology, but it's looking like severe blunt force trauma is the cause of death. Someone did a real number on her and they were pissed about something. She had broken ribs, a punctured lung, massive internal bleeding, and severe head trauma. We did find a number three on the inside of her arm."

"Ok. We are going to sit down and go over everything again. We have answers, we just haven't found them. Tell Robin that we're meeting at the cave in an hour."

"An hour? Oh, hell no. If I'm not mistaken, you've got a naked Wonder Woman in the next room. It's 9:00 AM now, we'll see you at noon in the cave. I'll start pulling things together in the meantime. Anything else?"

There was silence on the other end for a minute as Bruce fought an internal battle. He knew it would probably be the first of many. Self-restraint and his mission were warring with self-indulgence and feasting on Diana for a little longer. In the end, Dick took the decision out of his hands.

"Hello? Hey, think about what Alfred will do to you if he thinks you've disrespected her by leaving _now _and unnecessarily. So, anything else?"

At this, Bruce became resigned and if he were honest with himself, also relieved. "Ok. You win. Yes, there is something else. Later, send the Batwing to pick us up."

"Us?"

"Yes, us. There is also something I need Alfred to do…."

A few minutes later Bruce stood in the bedroom doorway, again watching his sleeping princess. With a predatory gleam in his eye, he walked toward the bed, intent on arousing his princess.

Several hours later, Bruce and Diana were on their way from New York to Gotham in the Batwing. They began their journey in silence. For Diana, at some point the playful yet passionate mood from the morning together had transformed into one of apprehension.

"What is it?" Bruce asked her without taking his eyes off of the sky in front of him.

_Of course. _In those few brief moments, he had already sensed the change in her frame of mind.

"I suppose I'm feeling a little….skittish? We're headed back to reality and everything that held you back for years."

Bruce switched the plane to autopilot. He pushed back his cowl as he turned to her. "I meant everything I said last night. I love you. I want this. I want to try."

"Does that include not treating me as if I'm made of glass? Trying to tuck me away somewhere so I don't get hurt by you or anyone else? Last night, you didn't trust me, you _dismissed_ me."

"Princess, it isn't a matter of trust. For all of your strength, speed, and weapons, none of them are foolproof. I watched you get buried by a missile and thought you were dead. A month ago you were almost killed by a bullet. I thought if I resisted this – resisted _us_, it wouldn't affect me so much. I thought if I stayed away there wouldn't be the fear, the pain, the risk of losing my self-control. I only just realized that it didn't matter – it was going to be that way whether we were together or not. The only difference would be whether or not I had to watch you be with someone else."

Diana shook her head. "This is our duty, Bruce. I've also watched you nearly die countless times."

"It's not the same and you know it."

She looked at him intently. For all of his strength, the pain from his childhood was still easily seen in his eyes. "Bruce, I wish so much that your world wasn't only about your parents' deaths. That your life and your mission could be about their lives and their love for you."

He sighed and looked away briefly. After a moment, he reached out for her hand and pressed it between his two gloved ones. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He stared down at their hands as he responded.

"While you were away….rehearsing, you received a message at the Watchtower. A friend with a problem she needed help with. I found myself in North Carolina, searching for a boy who had lost his whole family in a fire. I learned a few things that night. If I hadn't seen it so clearly relevant for someone else, I probably wouldn't give it a second thought. I don't know what it means for me, if anything at all. It does however, deserve some attention and some thought."

At that, Diana pulled away and clasped his head between her hands, pulling him to her into a passionate kiss. When they separated, she laid her head on his shoulder as they clung to each other.

"So, did you help her?"

"Yes. And she helped me."

A short time later, Bruce, Diana, Dick and Tim were gathered in the cave, all dressed in civilian clothing. Barbara was participating electronically. Photos and police reports were spread across the large desk facing the bank of computer monitors.

"Let's go through everything again. We're missing something here – something that can at least narrow down the pool of potential suspects," Bruce said as he gestured toward the desk.

They turned as the teleporter in the cave activated. Shayera materialized in a flash of light on the pad. "What? Surprised to see me?" she said at the looks of surprise from Dick, Tim, and Diana.

As she walked down towards the group, Bruce explained, "I asked Shayera to join us. She is as good as we are at this and obviously we need fresh eyes since we haven't come up with anything."

The other three looked back at him, surprised by his statement – by the fact that he brought someone else into the circle and that admitted the need for assistance. His brow creased and he frowned as he met their stares with one of his own. Shayera just smirked and took note of the change in Batman's behavior.

"Ok," Dick summarized the basics, getting them back on track. "So far the perpetrator has abducted 5 women, presumably off of the street, taken them to an unknown location, drugged them, injured and killed in multiple ways, cut a number into their skin, dressed them in a Wonder Woman costume, then deposited them in public places in Gotham."

"As far as serial murders go – what about them stands out?" Bruce asked the group.

Tim crossed his arms and nodded towards the pile of crime scene photos. "You mean besides the Wonder Woman costume and victims materializing out of thin air? Don't serial killers often develop a preferred method of killing their victims? They aren't killed the same way and their injuries are different – some are cause of death, some aren't."

As a former detective on her native planet, Shayera had made it a point to familiarize herself with illegal drug use on Earth. "Victims being drugged isn't unusual, but the Phenobarbital in their system is. It's not a street drug. It's use has largely been replaced by Benzodiazapines. It may be used if the more modern drugs are ineffective but it is sometimes used for neonatal seizures, for drug and alcohol detox, and by veterinarians."

Dick nodded, "GCPD is going with the fact that since it's used less it is less likely to be missed at hospitals. Nothing in Gotham has been reported missing – but if the perp has easy access they might also be able to cover up that's its missing if they had to. When they've got a suspect, they can get a search warrant for a specific facility."

"That's never stopped you before," Diana teased.

Bruce grinned back at her. "You're right. Barbara, take the GCPD list and add any other potential sources of the drug locally. We'll check it out. Ok, so what else?"

"These women have been marked - numbered – there's clearly a countdown to something." A uncomfortable silence fell over the cave at Tim's statement.

She tried to break the sudden tension. "Come on boys, who better to count down to than the strongest and most indestructible woman on the planet?"

Bruce met her eyes directly. There was no question that everyone believed it was her they were counting down to and he clearly didn't see any levity in it. She looked back at him defiantly and within seconds, their serious gaze changed into something else. The craving they both experienced for years obviously not satisfied by the prior night's indulgence.

It didn't take long before the two felt the other's eyes on them. Diana blushed and looked away. Bruce abruptly turned back to the computer, "Then that brings us back to Victimology. Barbara, can you pull up the list you developed?"

"Sure thing."

While they waited, Diana found herself on the receiving end of a first questioning, then knowing look from Shayera when her blush deepened.

On the large computer screen appeared a list of each victim, their age, and the most salient of their personality characteristics. Barbara's image popped up on a smaller screen. "In front of you is a breakdown of each victim, their age, injuries and cause of death, and common themes that emerged across all of the interviews from friends and family members."

"Good. Let's work backwards and start with the victim we are most familiar with." Bruce directed.

"Roulette then." Diana walked closer to the computer, looking up at the mug shot of Roulette that Barbara had loaded onto a smaller screen."

"Hot off the presses," Barbara said as she pulled up the medical examiner's report. "The autopsy confirms massive internal damage from blunt force trauma – they think maybe a baseball bat – she died from the internal bleeding. Thankfully it looks like she was pumped full of so many drugs that it was unlikely she was conscious."

"The killer directed a lot of rage at her. Usually that means they knew her." Dick paused, knowing his next statement would likely cause additional tension. "In this case though, she may have just been a surrogate for the person the rage was really directed towards."

Before anyone could react, Shayera quickly jumped in, "Roulette was full of her own rage. Yes, there's Meta-brawl, but she was also a fighter – good, but vicious according to Helena. Not good enough to beat Huntress, but still good. Her intent of course wasn't to subdue, but to inflict maximum damage."

"Rage," Bruce said, then paused staring intently at the photo still on the screen. "Number four, Barbara," he directed.

They heard the muffled ring of a cellular phone.

"Sorry," Diana said, digging her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. She looked at its screen. "It's the Embassy, I'll just be a minute."

She walked a several feet away so they could continue, but not quite out of earshot. They attempted to continue their discussion, but it was clear to everyone that their leader quickly became distracted by Diana's conversation.

"Tell him that I will return his calls when I can….."

Shayera glanced over at Bruce. In seconds, his expression had darkened considerably. She had spent several years observing the dynamic between these two and was accustomed to his reaction to male attention directed toward Diana. This was different however, than Superman's flirting with Diana to mess with him or Long Shadow's adolescent infatuation. Bruce's look now was more possessive and more menacing.

"Then the next time he calls, tell him that I'm fine, and on a mission and will not be returning any calls until the mission has been completed." Diana hit the 'end' button and turned back toward the group. Seeing that they were watching her, she glanced nervously at Bruce. "Sorry," she apologized again.

"Number four."

They all noticed the change in his tone. Diana casually walked over and stood very close to him but maintained her focus on the computer monitors. At that simple gesture some of the tension visibly left Bruce's body.

Dick, who still had the smirk on his face that came with seeing a jealous Bruce, responded, "Number four. Jessica Rafferty, no family, fingers broken, made a career of petty theft and larceny."

"Next," directed Bruce.

"O-kay," Barbara was visibly surprised by his abrupt move to the next victim, but knew him well enough to know that there was good reason. "Deirdre Ward, no criminal record. Severely depressed for years. Legs were broken, COD drug overdose."

"Stop," Bruce said.

They all looked at him. He began fishing a photo of each of the victims from the desk. He threw Roulette's down first. "Veronica Sinclair, a.k.a. Roulette – fighting, rage, aggression…wrath."

He tossed the next picture down. "Jessica Rafferty - theft, larceny…greed"

"Deirdre Ward"

Dick caught on. "Incredible - that has to be it. Deirdre Ward, depressed, didn't leave her bed or her house…sloth"

"Samantha Benedict."

Tim cut in. "Her younger sister had everything she wanted. Envy."

"Keri Jacobs," said Dick. "Described as narcissistic even by family and friends. Pride."

Understandably, Shayera and Diana were less familiar with Western religion. Bruce quickly gave them a synopsis of the seven deadly sins. When he finished, he proposed a course of action.

"So we have a religious zealot who practices black magic?" Tim asked. "That would be something different."

"It's more likely someone who despises religion," Dick replied.

"If this is the connection, then we now have some idea where they would strike next. There are two remaining deadly sins. Gluttony and Lust. He could be looking for a potential victim who over-indulges, lacks restraint. Traditionally this has been with food or drink, but given the interpretation of the killer in selecting his victims so far, I'm willing to bet in this case he'll be looking for a drug-user. For Lust, he would most likely be looking for someone who represents rampant fornication – like a prostitute. In a Gotham where most women have become too frightened to leave their homes at night or unescorted, there would be just one place where you could easily find someone to fit either of those descriptions. Starting tonight, we stake-out the Red-Light District."

Batman took over complete control and laid out a plan to stake out Gotham's Red-Light District. A half-hearted attempt to convince Diana to remain at the manor was abandoned with one look from her. So, as a counter measure to any magic that might be at play, necessary or not, he decided the mission should include Zatanna, as well as Shayera and her mace.

"I still don't see how any of this connects back to Wonder Woman," Tim stated when they finished.

"We can't know for sure yet, but it probably has to do with something you said after the very first murder, Tim," said Bruce. "The deadly sins are the complete opposite of Diana. She's is, or is considered to be, perfectly virtuous."

Diana looked uncomfortable with this idea. "I'm not perfectly virtuous. Ridiculous."

Shayera laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, "It's not ridiculous, Princess, it's how the world sees you."

"You know, there are seven heavenly virtues as well," said Dick. "Charity, Diligence, Patience, Kindness, Humility, Temperance, and Chastity."

"Really? Chastity?" Shayera laughed as Diana shot her a glare.

Not wanting that line of discussion to continue, Bruce dismissed the group. "Everyone meet back here just before sunset. We'll need to be on the streets early tonight."

Shayera had no intention of leaving before having a few minutes alone with Diana. "Wonder Woman, could you spare a moment before I leave?"

Dick and Tim headed upstairs to the manor. Bruce followed, pausing a moment at the bottom of the stairs and turned toward Diana. "Will you stay?"

Diana's eyes met his and she smiled at him. It was a request rather than an order. It looked like it might be causing him physical pain, but it was progress nonetheless. "Of course," she responded. "I will be right up."

The look of discomfort in his ice-blue eyes was replaced by one of such complete, open carnality that Diana instantly felt the now familiar warmth pooling inside. It literally took her breath away.

He turned and Diana watched as he ascended the stairs.

From behind her, "I'm going out on a limb to say that chastity is no longer one of your virtues. Spill it Princess."

Diana turned around and smiled, but shook her head. "Not yet, I can't."

Shayera tilted her head to the side and regarded Diana. "Ok, at least tell me how it was?"

"Indescribably wonderful."

"Good. It's about damn time that boy made his move." Shayera made her way to the teleportation pad as Diana followed.

"Well, it wasn't exactly his move…."

Shayera laughed.

"Ok, then. Go throw that boy a bone."

She laughed harder at Diana's confused expression and then disappeared into the flash of light.


	12. Temperance Part 2

A/N: A little corny and a lot of paranoid. We discover Batman in love is still Batman. Maybe even more so...

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Temperance Part 2

_"Temperance gives nature her full play, and enables her to exert herself in all her force and vigor."_ – **Joseph Addison**

As she rolled over onto her stomach, Diana stretched languidly across Bruce's king size bed. The blankets and pillows had been discarded several hours ago. She looked out the window toward the sun sitting low in the sky. Bruce propped himself up on one elbow and slowly traced up and down the back of her form, from shoulder to thigh. She sighed, content for the moment.

"You know, I'm beginning to suspect you might be trying to do me in," Bruce said.

Diana turned her head to the other side to look at him questioningly. "Having trouble keeping up?"

He smiled down at her and reached to brush back a lock of black hair. "A little. I don't have your stamina, Princess. It will only get worse as I get older."

She narrowed her eyes at him, half expecting a diatribe about his mortality and her immortality. However, as his smile didn't waver, she relaxed. With one hand she grazed the planes of his chest down his abdomen to gently grasp his length, feeling it quickly respond to her touch. "That's OK, Master Bruce. I won't mind doing most of the work," she said with a wicked grin.

Bruce fell onto his back with a half-chuckle, half-groan. "I knew it."

She sat up on the bed. "Not to worry, Mr. Wayne. Right now what I want is food."

Bruce jumped up and walked across the room. "I suspect that desire has already been addressed." He opened the bedroom door and as expected, found a serving cart in the hallway with an assortment of fresh fruits, vegetables, bread, and cheese arranged on different trays. A large insulated ice bucket held bottles of water and juice.

"Alfred is an amazing, wonderful, omniscient man. Come to think of it, I don't think I've been here before without having seen him." Suddenly Diana felt a tingle of trepidation. "He's aware of …. our recent developments. Is he displeased?"

She was delighted when Bruce laughed out loud. It was a sound that she'd like to hear often.

"Princess, I don't think I've ever seen the man happier in his life. He's been busy doing me a favor. Something I'll show you later."

They ate in silence. When they'd finished Diana stood and returned their plates to the serving cart.

"I need to shower," she said and walked toward the bathroom. At the doorway she turned around to look over her shoulder and smiled, "Are you coming?"

They finished in the shower, dressed and headed back down to the cave. Diana followed Bruce down the stairs to where Alfred was waiting expectantly. He did indeed look quite happy as he greeted her warmly, took her hands in his, and kissed her cheek, in an out of character expression of open affection.

"Princess Diana, I must say that I am overjoyed to see you. I feared at our last meeting that it would be some time before I would again have the pleasure. I am so very pleased that my charge finally came to his senses."

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Alfred. Where have you been hiding yourself all day?" asked Diana.

"Master Bruce had given me a task to complete, which took the greater part of the day. I don't imagine that my services were missed however," Alfred replied.

Bruce watched this exchange with some amusement. "Has the 'task' been completed, Alfred?"

"Of course, Master Bruce. Everything is in the dressing room."

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce took Diana's hand and led her across the cave.

Inside the dressing room on a tailors mannequin was a suit, similar in styling to those worn by his team. It was all black with a zipper up the back. The design was similar to what Nightwing wore. The Wonder Woman insignia from her own armor was duplicated in a black outline across the chest and there was a belt that duplicated her girdle, but also in black. A pair of over-the-knee boots sat next to them on the floor.

Diana looked over the suit in silence. She reached out to feel the fabric, it felt light and flexible, but strong. "Bruce," she teased, "is this Kevlar?"

"Not exactly." He smirked. "But, it will protect against even the sharpest knives and is nonconductive, so it protects against electricity. It has also been designed work with your bracers. I know it's not forged by Hephaestus and that you probably don't need it, but given the circumstances and the fact this is more of a covert mission, your regular armor won't work. You have to wear something."

"Thank you, Bruce. It's perfect." She looked sideways at him. " When did you design this?"

His look was suddenly serious. "Quite some time ago, Princess," he replied and kissed her gently. "This morning I asked Alfred to put it into production. Now get dressed, it's time to go to work."

Batman finished changing and walked out to the computer station, leaving Diana behind to finish dressing. Alfred was still out in the main room, waiting for them to return.

"Alfred, were _all_ of the preparations on the suit completed?"

"Yes, sir. Miss Zatanna was here about an hour ago to perform her protection spell. She indicated that she will be at the required location at 9:00 PM. All transmitters in the suit are online and have been tested."

"Thank you Alfred."

At that moment, the teleporter activated. Within several seconds, Shayera materialized on the pad in a shimmer of white light.

She walked down the steps from the teleportation pad towards Alfred and Batman. "So, I'm the first one here?"

"The others are already at their assigned observation points." On the large computer monitor he called up a map of the Red Light District in Gotham. Several points on the map showed three flashing lights. "Our goal is apprehension prior him before he gets to the #2 victim. We will be focusing on these two streets where there is the most drug distribution and solicitation. These lights are their GPS transmitters. You will alternate between here – and here." He pointed to several additional markers on the map. "Wonder Woman and I will be here."

"Both points you've assigned seem very close to where you and Diana are. Wouldn't it be more effective if I watched from further down?"

"No. You will be observing the entire area – but primarily Diana's location – from the air. I want you to carry this." He pulls a small PDA off of the desk. "It's loaded with a GPS tracking program. I have several transmitters sewn into Wonder Woman's new suit and attached to each bracer. If anything happens and we're separated, I want you to have the capability to track and follow her immediately."

Shayera's brow crinkled as she frowned at the electronic device he handed her. "And Diana knows about this?"

"No."

She arched one eyebrow. "I'm not sure she'd like the idea of my being here just to babysit her. If you like eating solid food, you better don't hope it doesn't come up in conversation."

He just nodded his head once in response, then turned his back on her. She watched him walk over to the Batmobile. _Yep, still Batman_.

The team was assembled at various points along two blocks in Gotham that met at an intersection. Nightwing and Robin were at the far end of each block, opposite the side where the two streets intersected.

Batman and Wonder Woman were situated on the roof of a building at the corner where the two streets met, allowing them to view both streets from opposite sides of the building. Zatanna had been placed by Batman across the intersection from them. Shayera circled from above, maintaining close observation of Diana.

They had been observing for several hours. Batman had checked in regularly with the team. As certain as he was that they should be watching this place, there was no guarantee that the perpetrator would show that night, tomorrow night, or the next night. They had to be vigilant and persistent.

As much as they both wished they were somewhere else and doing something else, Batman and Wonder Woman maintained a close watch over the city streets below. They paced back and forth along the edge of the building, meeting at the corner periodically just to be nearer to one other and exchange a bit of conversation.

Diana was becoming restless. At one of their meetings at the corner of the building, she glanced at him, sighed, and then looked down at the street.

He reached out and squeezed her hand. "Patience, Princess."

She looked over and smiled, both of them acknowledging the similarity of that night to another stakeout in Gotham some years ago. "Don't you wish you were down there?"

"I'm down there all I need to be," he replied with a soft smile. His tone was different than it had been then. The words now had different meaning for both of them.

They continued their watch.

Batman caught side of a figure walking down the street and sensed some familiarity in his mannerisms. He was wearing a dark jacket with a hood. Occasionally he would stop and covertly observe one of the women who were either buying or selling something on the streets below.

One of the women who had just purchased something from a local dealer had apparently caught his interest and he began to follow her. They were coming in the direction of their current position at the intersection. Focusing the vision on the telescopic lenses, he scrutinized the man, looking for some recognizable feature. He zoomed in on the man's hands, observed a number of hash marks and instantly recognized who it was he had been watching. Something else on the man's hands caught his eye that immediately caused a flash of blinding rage. As the man approached his position, he jumped over the side of the building.

Diana glanced toward the opposite side of the roof just in time to see Batman disappear over its side. She flew to the spot where he had disappeared and watched from above as Batman dropped toward the street below. Mesmerized, she watched as he descended at a high speed and with incredible precision, scooped a man off of the street and accelerated back up towards the roof, the man in tow. With an incredible display of strength and grace, he swung up over the side and dropped his cargo onto the roof. A brief, somewhat uncharacteristic and un-princess like thought flashed through Diana's mind. _Mere mortal, my ass._

Victor Zsasz looked up at the looming figure standing above him in terror. "Batman. No," he whispered.

"Why aren't you in Arkham, Victor?" he ground out in a threatening snarl.

Zsasz began to babble, clearly terrified. He didn't however, seem to be terrified of the menacing figure above him or the angry form in black standing behind him. Victor Zsasz's eyes began to dart around the roof, apparently in fear of whatever he expected to materialize out of the shadows.

"Batman. Must find the two. Must find the two." He suddenly got up and tried to run. Bolas immediately circled his ankles and he fell hard to the ground with a hard thud. He began to cry.

Wonder Woman fell to her knees on top of the terrified man and grabbed the front of his shirt with her fist. She seethed in anger. "The two? Number two?"

The man nodded but continued to cry. She looked up at Batman with the unspoken question – is this him?

Batman nodded in return. "He doesn't recognize you without your armor," he said as he reached down and grabbed Zsasz's arm. He lifted it so Wonder Woman could see the number '4' carved on the back of his hand.

With one quick yank of the jacket, it and the shirt underneath came off in Diana's hand. Clearly visible amongst the dozens of hash marks was a '6' cut into his stomach and a '3' on his right bicep. Each number was on the same spot as on the victim.

Their killer continued to babble and cry throughout their dialogue.

"Ok, get him up. Let's get him back to Arkham and find out how he got out."

At these words, the crying switched to screaming - the loud, high-pitched screech of complete and total terror. Words began to emerge from the babbling, "Help me. She'll hurt me. No Red Witch. Please help. Not the red witch."

Batman reached down and pulled him up by the throat, dangling his feet above the asphalt roof. He held him securely off the ground but without enough pressure to compress his airway. Zsasz continued to scream. "What red witch, Victor?" he said threateningly.

Victor immediately went limp, completely unconscious.


	13. Temperance Part 3

A/N: Dialogue, if not a spoiler, from 'A Once and Future Thing'.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Temperance Part 3

"_There is no difference between knowledge and temperance; for he who knows what is good and embraces it, who knows what is bad and avoids it, is learned and temperate"_ – **Socrates**

Batman and Wonder Woman followed Commissioner Gordon and the GCPD in the Batmobile as they drove Zsasz back to Arkham. Batman had sent Nightwing back to Bludhaven and Robin out to patrol Gotham. They were both to return to the cave at the end of patrol for debriefing. Zatanna had stayed to provide backup for Robin. Shayera had returned to the Watchtower.

On the short drive in, Batman gave Wonder Woman a brief biography of Victor Zsasz. He grew up in a wealthy family and lived a life of relative ease until his parents were killed in a boating accident just after he graduated from college. He then lost his entire inheritance gambling against the Penguin. The depressed young man transformed when he killed a homeless man who assaulted him with a knife. He found he had a taste for murder and thus the event sparked the development of the sociopathic serial killer. Each of his victims was memorialized with a tally mark cut into his skin with a knife. At last count, Victor Zsasz had 143 tally marks signifying 143 bodies he was responsible for. Although now, Batman suspected there were at least another 5 for which he was responsible.

They walked into Arkham side by side, following Victor Zsasz, who was being carried to the infirmary on a stretcher. He was still unconscious.

They turned him over to Dr. Fiona Wilson. Batman gruffly uttered, "I want to talk to him when he wakes up," and proceeded to the cell block.

Diana and Jim Gordon stood silently outside as Batman proceeded to tear apart Victor Zsasz's cell, with the assistance of Security Guard Aaron Cash. He picked apart everything. He electronically scanned everything. He collected samples from every surface of the cell.

Diana, Gordon, and Cash followed silently as he walked toward the security room to view video footage from earlier that evening. The tension was thick as Batman's mood grew darker and darker. The involvement of Victor Zsasz was completely unexpected and Batman did not like surprises. He was angry and Diana knew that much of the anger was directed at himself. He felt responsible for at least four of these five murders. He had been to Arkham the night after Keri Jacobs was found but had discovered nothing that pointed to Zsasz.

She entered the small room directly behind him. She turned and smiled at Gordon and Cash who hesitated outside the door before pulling it shut behind her.

Diana turned around to find Batman already seated and viewing footage of Zsasz's cell from earlier that evening. She stood behind and watched over his shoulder. The entire evening Zsasz was clearly visible in his cell, right up until the lights went out at 10:00 P.M. After that is was dark inside the cell, but nothing unusual was observed in the hallway outside, right up until Batman and Cash entered the cell several hours later.

He slammed his fist down on the metal table. It dented. He reached back to the computer terminal and entered some commands.

"Oracle, I'm sending you all of the surveillance footage from Arkham from this evening. Go through every camera and find me something."

"Thanks, B. That will save me five minutes hacking – "

"Batman out."

Suddenly a batarang came flying out from under his cape. It flew into the corner of the room, hit the security camera, and directed its view to the ceiling.

He stood and turned to look at her. Although most of his face was obscured by the cowl, she could feel his eyes on her and the look within them was predatory. A bit disconcerted, she began to slowly back up as he walked towards her, stopping only when her back met the door. He placed a gloved hand on each shoulder and pushed one leg between her knees. She allowed him to force her legs farther apart.

He pushed himself against her and even through the Kevlar she felt the evidence of his desire for her pressed into her hip. One gloved hand snaked around the back of her head to thread fingers through her hair while the other hand slid down her shoulder to roughly seize her breast, firmly kneading it in his strong grip. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the door. Her breath was ragged and heavy. His behavior had caught her off guard. Diana's mind was reeling as she tried to discern the reason for his actions.

Even with her eyes closed and his cowl on, she continued to feel the heat of his gaze on her. His hand released her breast and slid down her side, across her abdomen and between her legs. As he began to move his hand against her with long, hard strokes, her lips parted and a gasp escaped. At this opportunity, he pulled her head toward him and kissed her roughly, his tongue snaking inside to wrestle hers. They both knew she could stop him any time she wanted.

She suddenly understood that whether he realized it or not, with this uncharacteristic lack of control he was testing them both. His anger and frustration were growing and he was testing if he could afford to allow himself a momentary loss of restraint and still have the ability regain self-control and be effective in his mission. For her, he was testing her ability to deal with and accept this side of him. It wasn't a test she intended to fail. In all honesty, she found it thrilling and wanted more.

When they broke apart for need of oxygen, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, her words shaking with a barely restrained desire to let him take her right then and there, against the door.

"Bruce. Let's go home."

Breathing heavily, he briefly rested his forehead against hers as a sign of acquiescence.

After a moment, he stepped back and without looking away from her, tossed another batarang to reposition what he believed was the only surveillance camera in the room.

It wasn't.

Speeding down back roads in the Batmobile, they hadn't spoken during trip back to the cave. His mood clearly hadn't improved. She looked at his profile, illuminated by the blue lights on the dashboard and reviewed their aborted attempt to question Victor Zsasz at Arkham.

Things had gone from bad to worse when they had returned to the infirmary. In their absence, Zsasz had awakened and had immediately gone into another violent psychotic episode. As they walked in he was being sedated with haloperidol. The rapid-acting intra-muscular injection meant that Batman had no time at all to interrogate him before the man lost consciousness again.

Diana recalled the look of fear in the eyes of both young doctors when faced with Batman's anger, tempered though it was by the fact that they were physicians and not Gotham street thugs.

"I. Wanted. To. Talk. To. Him," Batman growled.

To her credit, Dr. Wilson raised her chin and stood her ground. "He was violent, hallucinating, and delusional. You wouldn't have gotten anything credible out of him anyway. We followed protocol."

Diana glanced over a the other young doctor, who had immediately hung her head when they had entered. Her blonde bob covered her face. She appeared extremely intimidated as she avoided eye contact with them completely. Diana felt a twinge of guilt and sympathy at her discomfort. Wilson, Gordon, and Cash, although also uncomfortable with Batman's…directness….were more than familiar with it and therefore much less intimidated.

She decided it was time to intervene. "Batman, as he will be asleep for some hours, perhaps we should return tomorrow?"

Gordon proposed a plan. "We'll have a GCPD officer and an Arkham Guard on him. Nobody will get to him before we return tomorrow. I'll have a couple of my best detectives on standby interrogate him as soon as he wakes up."

"Sure Batman, our best guards will watch him," offered Cash. "I'll watch him myself for the rest of the shift."

"Put an extra guard on Ivy too," he responded. They looked confused at the request but nodded.

Then, he had simply turned on his heel and walked out without further explanation, leaving Diana to again offer an apologetic smile before following him out to the Batmobile.

They pulled into the cave and found that Dick and Tim sitting at the computer, having retired the services of Nightwing and Robin for the night. They were viewing the surveillance video that Batman had downloaded from Arkham.

Batman exited the Batmobile and strode over to the computer bank, taking off his cowl and cape as he went. Dick and Tim jumped away from the chair as he reached the computer terminal and took a seat without a word.

Dick looked at Diana with a smirk. "I see you've been shown a good time tonight."

She smiled back, "Nothing I can't handle."

"I'll bet it isn't," offered Tim. "Lucky for him."

Bruce ignored their banter. "Detective Dick Grayson will be at Arkham first thing in the morning and wait for Zsasz to wake up. I want him questioned as soon as he's awake," he ordered in the deep baritone of Batman. He went back to the computer and pulled up the video taken by his cowl during the stakeout.

"Sure thing, boss," replied Dick.

Diana decided to leave the detectives to their work for awhile. "Excuse me gentlemen. I feel the need to change and hit something." She walked off toward the back of the cave.

Batman continued to view the footage. "He has an accomplice. Find out who it is."

The two young men waited in silence for him to continue.

"He was terrified when I pulled him off of the street. But not terrified of me or Wonder Woman. He didn't even recognize her. This isn't his obsession. It was almost as if he was working for someone. It's _that_ someone that he's really afraid of. He also has no magical abilities, inherited or learned. There has to be someone else pulling his strings."

He paused as the video of the serial killer dropping onto the roof appeared. He played through once without sound, up until the point where Batman lifted Zsasz off the ground and he subsequently passed out.

He rewound the video and played it again with sound. There was a brief silence when it finished.

"Red Witch? What Red Witch?" Tim asked.

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" Dick gestured toward the screen. "Any thoughts on who could inspire so much fear and control in someone so uncontrollable?"

Bruce replied, "I had them put extra security on Ivy. The most obvious 'Red Witch' would be a woman with red hair or one that was costumed in red. She'd need to be capable of mind control and most likely have access at Arkham. Ivy would be the logical choice. But I don't think it's her. She'd have no reason to be interested in Diana and she uses plants and pheromones to control, not magic."

Suddenly there was a crash and they turned and looked in the direction of the training room. Bruce hit a few keys on the keyboard and the inside of the room appeared on one of the smaller screens. Diana was hitting a reinforced heavy bag, modified from the standard kind used for training boxers. It was made to be able to take meta-strength hits. Of course with the ability to hold her own with Superman, Diana was not the typical meta and the bag was taking a beating. He watched her for a moment, mesmerized by movements that were the embodiment of physical contradiction – strength and femininity, power and grace.

Bruce zoomed the camera in closer. She had changed into a black tank of his that hung low under her arms leaving much of the skin along her sides exposed. Not surprisingly, Diana had opted out of wearing a bra. A pair of his drawstring pants hung loosely around her hips. As always, she was breathtaking.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the sight of her and it wasn't until he became aware of an extended silence in the room that he noticed the expressions on the faces of his adopted sons. Tim and Dick stood transfixed, also watching her on the video feed. Bruce repositioned the camera to capture just her head and shoulders within the frame.

"As I was saying…" Bruce interrupted their show and returned to the discussion about the individuals who would be likely to exert enough control over Zsasz's mind to accomplish these murders.

He went on, "His accomplice or accomplices would need to have the capability of mind control and manipulation, access to and knowledge of psychotropic drugs, and magical ability. They are more than likely associated in some way with Arkham Asylum and have a grudge again Wonder Woman, the Justice League, or me. What I am certain of, is that someone is manipulating Zsasz. That would point to Jervis Tech, Jonathan Crane, or Hugo Strange associated with Arkham."

"If you widen the search, there are a lot more – Luthor and Tala or Grodd being at the top of the list. They were all pretty pissed about you, Diana, and Superman stopping their big plan in Nanba Parbat. Luthor would also do this for kicks. Mess with Diana just to torture you and Superman. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a thing for her. For that matter, Talia might have a problem with Wonder Woman too." Tim's last several statements triggered a glare from Bruce.

"What about the 'Red Witch', Bruce?" Dick asked. "That ought to bring someone to the top of the list. Besides Ivy, is there anyone else who might be a possibility?"

Bruce continued, "Historically, red hair has had negative connotations. There was a belief in Germanic folklore that redheads were witches. During the Reformation, suspected witches were nearly always stripped and searched for 'marks of the devil'. These marks included any 'abnormality'. Freckles, moles, warts, birthmarks – and red hair – were all considered abnormal. As a result, thousands of women were tortured and murdered usually by burning at the stake or by drowning. There are other cultures with this attitude towards redheads as part of their history too – back to Ancient Egypt, Rome, and Greece. I'm sure Diana would have some examples."

"So, a redhead who uses magic seems like the most likely place to start," Dick stated. He picked up a mug of coffee from the tray that Alfred had just placed on the desk.

"Sure, bro. You're obsessed with redheads anyway. You could just start dating all the redheads in Gotham one by one until you find all the ones that can do magic," Tim teased. "No wait – it's just the old man that dates the bad guys – I mean bad girls."

At that moment, Bruce had been watching Diana continue to destroy the gym equipment. At Tim's comment she froze momentarily and her forehead furrowed as she frowned. As if she realized she was being watched – and more than likely she did – the emotion vanished from her face and she continued to hit the bag. Harder. Bruce looked up to glare at Tim before turning back to the screen.

Dick smacked Tim on the back of the head, pointed to his ear, and mouthed, 'meta-human hearing'. Tim's eyes widened as he reddened. He'd forgotten.

Alfred, who had been cleaning up the work area, came to their rescue. "Actually, Master Tim, I believe that Master Dick has inherited his father's unparalleled partiality for dark-haired Amazonian Princesses."

They watched for a moment as Diana smiled and all three breathed a sigh of relief. Two men sent a grateful look toward Alfred. One however, was incredulous, blushing, and just managed to sputter out, "What do you mean? Donna is a trusted colleague, a valued friend…"

Bruce watched Diana's smile grow wider. She slowly raised her eyes to look up at the camera positioned in the corner of the room. He knew that look. Suddenly, he flipped off the camera feed from the gym and stood up.

"It's late, let's pick this up tomorrow. Dick, be at Arkham first thing in the morning. Get something out of Zsasz. Now, Alfred, if you'll excuse me? Dick. Tim. Get out."

Dawn was approaching. Bruce slipped out of their bed not long after Diana's even breathing indicated she had fallen asleep. He took a brief moment to enjoy the swell of emotion in his chest as he looked down at her enchantingly beautiful face. Then he quickly pulled on a pair of loose cotton workout pants and a t-shirt and headed back down to the cave.

As soon as he sat down, he called up the satellite feed from the Gotham News Network. There was breaking news from Crime Alley. Refuse workers on an early-morning trash pickup had discovered a body behind a dumpster. Sources from the GCPD reported that the woman had been strangled. Despite the fact that this body was hidden and not found in a copy of Wonder Woman's armor, for some reason early speculation from the police was that it was the latest from Gotham's serial killer.

_Son of a bitch._

If it was related to the other murders, their elusive accomplice may have resorted to doing the dirty themselves, having lost their puppet last night when Zsasz was captured.

He might have flown into a tirade at the news had Bruce not just had nearly every ounce of his physical strength sapped by hours of wild lovemaking with an amorous Amazon on the training room floor mat. Then twice more upstairs in the master bedroom. With the fleeting realization that maybe the anger wasn't always necessary or useful, he focused instead on channeling his considerable mental capabilities.

He picked up the telephone. It rang several times before a groggy Barbara Gordon answered the phone. "Bruce, this better be important."

He told her what had been reported on the morning news and asked her to find out everything she could.

Believing that this was still connected with someone from Arkham, Bruce pulled up on the giant monitor the list of Arkham staff and inmates that Barbara had created. He sat back in his chair and looked through the names one by one.

He froze when he reached the name of Dr. Gesine Mastles.

_M – A – S – T – L – E – S_

_Wait. What the – ?_


	14. Lust

A/N: Aside from borrowing a few characters or a bit of history from elsewhere, I'm trying to stick to the Animated BTAS/JLU continuity as closely as possible. Spoilers (kind of) for BTAS 'The Strange Secret of Bruce Wayne' and JLU 'Doomsday Sanction' and 'The Balance'. Plus a homage to DJ's 'Immortal Sisters' at the end.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Lust

"_Only a struggle twists sentimentality and lust together into love."_** – E. M. Forster**

She reached out of the shower to grab her robe. Her hand found nothing on the hook. She sighed. "Can't you just call my secretary and make an appointment like everyone else?"

"We need to talk."

"No kidding." She stuck her head out of the shower and took her robe from his outstretched hand. A minute later she walked out to her living room to find him waiting.

"Coffee?"

"This isn't a social visit."

"I didn't think it was."

"Where is he?"

"Which _**he**_? There've been so many."

"You took him from Arkham to help you with your _projects_. _He_ told you who I am. You probably determined very quickly that someone who was that insane – brilliant though he may be – is extremely difficult to control. So you pulled him off your line and put him in segregation in Belle Reve. I know he's not there anymore. _He_ disappeared six months ago. WHERE IS _HE_?"

"Dead."

He glared at her.

"What? I didn't kill him. He killed himself."

He continued to glare.

"Give it a rest, rich boy. He hung himself in his cell. I didn't kill him, I just covered it up. He could have been useful to me at some point."

"Did he have any visitors at Belle Reve?"

"Just one. A woman. Redhead."

On the way back to the cave in the plane, he called Dick on his secure line.

"Dick Grayson," he answered. "But then, you knew that."

Batman growled. "What have you heard about the victim found this morning?"

"Good Morning to you too, sunshine. Boy are you grumpy for a man who's had Wonder Woman in his bed for the last two nights."

"The victim," he repeated.

"Right. She may be another of the victims. Could be a copycat though. No Wonder Woman uniform, but she had a number '2' cut into her. Inside forearm. Track marks everywhere too. Old and new. She died of strangulation, her trachea was compressed. Weird thing though, the ME doesn't know how it was compressed. Just that it was. No ligature marks or external trauma of any kind. Like it was compressed from the _inside_.

"What did you get out of Zsasz?"

Dick sighed. "Nothing. Wilson is being a pain in the ass. She's pissed at you though, what did you do here last night?"

"Is he up?"

"Yeah, but she won't let me talk to him. They keep running tests to see if he's 'medically stable' to answer questions."

"Is Mastles there?"

"The blonde? I think I saw her once just a little while ago. Wilson gave her a hard time for being late. Haven't seen her since."

"Find her. Watch her. See how Zsasz reacts to her. Don't let her out of your sight – but don't confront her until I'm ready. I'm not sure what we're dealing with."

Dick was confused. "Ok, why?"

"Mastles…in reverse is Seltsam. The German word for –"

"Strange. Hugo Strange."

Bruce jumped out of the cockpit as soon as the plane touched down in the cave. He was halfway up the stairs to the manor when a transmission came over his comlink.

"Batman, it's Shayera."

"What is it?"

"Something's wrong with Zatanna. She was in the commissary when she grabbed her head and fell. When I got to her she grabbed my arm and told me to find you - that something was wrong. Then she started to scream. Like when…"

"When you and Diana went to Tartarus to free Hades?"

"Yes. But it's not the exactly the same. Nobody else is affected this time. We had to sedate her."

At that moment, Bruce reached the doorway to the master bedroom. Alfred was making the bed. Diana was nowhere in sight. A sense of dread and foreboding began to wash over him.

"Alfred, where's Diana?"

"I believe she's in New York, Sir. She got word this morning that Miss Donna was due back today."

"Hold on Shayera." He switched frequencies. "Batman to Wonder Woman….Wonder Woman, this is Batman, come in." There was a growing desperation in his voice as he didn't get a response.

Bruce turned and went back down the stairs. As he ran, he switched frequencies again. "Shayera, is Donna back?"

"A little while ago. She left the Watchtower right after she returned with the team."

"Do you still have that receiver on you? Can you find Diana's location?"

"Uh, yeah. Hold on….two clusters of lights. One in Gotham, one in New York."

"The suit must be in the cave. The lights in New York are the transmitters from her bracers. In thirty seconds, have me transported from the cave to Diana's apartment. Find Donna. If she's not already there, tell her to get back to her apartment. Now."

"Copy that. Transporting in thirty."

As soon as Batman's feet hit the transporter pad in the cave, his surroundings immediately transformed and he was standing in the middle of Diana's living room. He looked around. A red glow was coming from Diana's bedroom.

He approached the doorway. The first thing he saw was Diana, levitated above the bed. She had apparently been sleeping and ambushed. Unconscious, her head, arms, and legs hung limp like a rag doll. At the foot of the bed stood a woman dressed in black pants and a black coat. She had a mass of long, fire-red red curls that cascaded over her shoulders almost to her waist. A red orb surrounded the woman that looked very much like something a Green Lantern power ring would create. One arm was extended, her hand in a fist pointing toward Diana. As she raised her arm, Diana levitated higher off of the bed.

The enhanced hearing in his cowl picked up on a soft sound. It came from Diana. She was gasping for breath, struggling for air. As if the fist was wrapped around her neck instead of poised in midair.

He began to rush toward Diana. Without turning, the Red Witch moved her arm in his direction and held her hand palm out. He found himself picked up off of the ground and pinned against the wall.

"Hello, Bruce. Really, I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out. My father apparently overestimated your intellectual capabilities. I think we might have taken care of this last night had I not been wearing a wig."

"Gesine, let her go."

"Not a chance. Do you have any idea how much work this has been?" She opened her fist and held it palm-up. Diana's breathing eased, but she continued to hang in midair above the bed.

"Why?"

She turned her head away from Diana to look at him. The irises of her eyes were completely black.

"Visio," she said. A second later his cowl disappeared.

Angry ice-blue eyes glared back at her black ones.

"My, you are the temperamental one. I would think you would be a bit more humbled with your girlfriend's life in my hands."

He repeated his question. "Why?"

"You don't know already? You destroyed him. You discredited him and sent him to prison."

"I saved Hugo Strange's life. He would have fallen to his death when Joker, Dent, and Cobblepot threw him out of that plane. He had to go to jail for his crimes."

She ignored him and continued, "Then, when he had an opportunity to start over, your friends killed him. He was an empty shell when I found him. He told me his story – and your story – and then he killed himself."

"How do you know he killed himself? They covered it up."

"He told me he was going to do it."

Batman looked at her incredulously. "You mean you just let him kill himself?"

"He was already dead. Your God-like troop of meta-humans killed him when they killed his last chance for redemption."

"I didn't even know he was involved at the time. We were trying to take down Cadmus, not him."

"Doesn't matter – it ended up being the same thing."

"Then why just target Diana if it was the whole League you wanted dead?"

"I didn't want you dead. I wanted you discredited. Humiliated. Broken. Like my father was. I thought if I focused on bringing her down, it would break you all. She was the best of you, so I thought if the world to blame her for the deaths of innocent women that they would begin to fear all of you. But they didn't. That became obvious to me the night of the benefit. To the world, she remained the bastion of heavenly virtues. She wasn't blamed for anything. None of you were."

She turned away from him and looked toward Diana. Then, looking back at him, she gave him a smile that emanated evil, "But she's not a bastion of heavenly virtues anymore, is she? You took care of that. At first I thought she'd been defiled by that musician. I was furious. But it wasn't him though, was it, Bruce?"

"You're the one who beat Roulette to death. Not Victor."

She laughed. "So, after years of denying yourself, you gave in. I got to see it for myself at Arkham."

She turned back toward Diana again, this time with a look of hate and disgust. "You pawed her, made her pant like a bitch in heat. So now, my plan has changed. I'll still break you. Now she becomes number one. Now _she_ dies."

As Gesine's fist began to close and again Diana struggled for air, Batman heard the flutter of wings. He looked toward the open balcony door as Shayera flew in, swinging her mace at the witch. The mace sailed through the red glowing light around Gesine, but when Shayera made physical contact she slammed hard against it and bounced off, flying back against the wall.

Shayera came running forward again, this time stopping at the edge of the red barrier. Using the strap attached to the handle, she began to swing the mace above her head. As it gained speed, she released it and sent it flying toward the witch. It hit her head, causing her to stagger. The force of the hit and her loss of concentration caused her to release her grip on Diana and Batman. Diana hit the bed, he hit the floor.

Batman quickly looked toward the bed, desperately hoping to see her get up. She didn't. But he could see the rise and fall of her chest; she was breathing.

Rolling over, he grabbed the mace that had landed a few feet from him. Rolling again, he sent it flying toward the witch, watching it sail past her.

"You missed," she said with an evil smile.

"I meant to," he replied.

The witch turned to see Shayera coming toward her, swinging. She ducked in time, but went to take a step away and fell to the floor. Gesine looked down to find her angles bound together. The ends of the cord had little bat-symbols on them.

She was incensed. "Enough!"

Just as Shayera was about to strike her again, the witch picked her up with a motion of her hand and slammed her back against the wall. Uttering the word, "Commoror" left Shayera struggling on the floor, unable to get up.

Batman stood up and took a step toward the witch. With one hand she sent him flying back away from her. With another word, "Libero", the cables around her ankles disappeared. She stood quickly and faced Batman, glaring.

"Gesine, take me. Let Diana go. She's not the one you want to hurt."

"No, she's not. You are. But killing you won't do the job. You've been trying to kill yourself for years. Since you were eight years old, in fact. You know, my father was insane. Both of us, actually. But we're exceptional psychiatrists. He knew you, Bruce Wayne. And now I know you. As well as anyone – including her."

"You don't know me." He was stalling. His mind raced, quickly processing all of the possible ways to get out of this, or at least get Diana out of this, alive.

"I know you better than you think. My mother knew he was insane and wanted to protect me. When she when she discovered she was pregnant, she ran to hide me from my father. She took good care of me. She loved me, then she died. And I was alone. So, you see, I lost both of my parents too."

With Shayera lying on the floor unable to move, Gesine redirected her attention to Batman and Diana. As he took a step toward her, she raised him up with a wave of one hand and pinned him back against the wall. With her other hand, she picked up Diana and again held her hanging limply above the bed.

"Unlike you, I didn't have someone to take care of me. I was put up for adoption. It seemed like everything might turn out okay when I was adopted by what appeared to be a normal, stable couple. Unfortunately for me, they were insane too. Crazy religious zealots. They adopted me because they thought they had to protect the world from me. They saw the red hair, which was also a gift from my father and they branded me a witch – a child of Satan. They abused me for years as they tried to purge the 'demon' from me. Of course, as it turned out, they were right. I was all of those things. I was just like my father."

"That never should have happened. They weren't right. You got out. You could have overcome it. You still can."

"Oh really, overcome it like you did? The of the college degrees, the training….those were a means to an end. Just like they were for you. I didn't inherit piles of money, but I inherited my father's brilliance. So I got scholarships and I went to school to learn how to manipulate, with science and psychology. And I was good at it. Like he was. Like you are. I found I was also good at black magic. Though, I didn't need the magic to get Victor to work for me. He was easy and he enjoyed it. He was also terrified of what I would do to him if he didn't do exactly as I said. Sound familiar? I just needed the magic to get him in and out of Arkham. Until you almost caught him, that is."

As she ranted, Bruce caught sight of a feminine figure with black hair in the doorway to the balcony. He kept Gesine talking, "You teleported Zsasz out of that van. Then you let Arkham inmates escape so you could arrange the next murder without interference."

Donna quickly took in the scene of her sister levitating unconscious over the bed, Batman pinned against the wall, and a clearly infuriated Shayera struggling on the floor. Her gaze turned toward the woman orchestrating it all.

The rage on Donna's face was shocking.

Sitting down her bag of groceries outside, she burst through the door.

She looked down at Shayera and gestured toward the mace lying beside her. "Mind if I borrow this?" Shayera nodded as Donna picked up the Nth metal mace, which had been designed to be resistant to magical influence. She walked purposefully towards the stranger in her home.

"Hey bitch, let go of my sister." Donna angrily began to swing the Nth metal mace at the glowing red barrier.

The blow to the head and the fall had weakened Gesine, but the barrier still held. At this point he had seen enough to know that he had to break her concentration for Donna to get completely through it.

"Gesine, you make it sound like we're the same – we're alike. You must know that we're not though, right? Like you said, I've had someone to take care of me and love me my whole life. You're mother didn't think enough of you to plan for the possibility that she might not be able to do it herself. My parents did. Hell, your own father was more interested in what I was doing than he was in you or he'd have tried to look for you himself."

Gesine turned to him, black eyes burning with rage like hot black coals. She squeezed both of her hands into fists, closing both of their throats. Bruce knew Diana must now be struggling to breathe, as his own throat was squeezed tight. He watched Donna hammer away at the protective shield, breaking through it as he began to lose consciousness. He was jolted awake when his body again hit the floor.

Batman rolled to his feet. Gesine was screaming, wrapped in Donna's lasso. He breathed a sigh of relief. Diana was sitting up on the bed, looking confused. Bruce watched her confusion transform into recognition as she took in the red-haired woman in black, bound in her sister's lasso, screaming on the floor. Diana's blue eyes flashed with anger.

She stood and picked the woman up off of the floor.

"Shut up, witch," she said before she pulled back her fist, knocked the woman unconscious, and dropped her.

At that moment, a blue and black clad figure swung through the open door from the balcony and gracefully landed on his feet in the middle of the room.

Donna grinned. "Hi Short-Pants. You're late."


	15. Love

A/N: Conclusion. Thanks to all who stuck with it – especially those who left reviews.

BlizzardAngel – Although this is the last chapter, the promised feedback will be much appreciated. Who knows if I might actually do something original someday – but this is a totally fun way to practice just in case… :-D

I've got another story almost finished that I will be begin to post in the next week or two. It's a little different genre – it's less of a 'crime' drama than this one is. I'm still trying to work out my niche so feedback from everyone is desired – for this and the next (and any others that might pop up).

No spoilers, just brief reference to the animated 'World's Finest'.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

_LOVE_

_"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love."_ **– **_**Sophocles**_

He waited. She was late. He was not surprised. It probably took quite some time to make the appropriate arrangements to assure that the asset she had acquired today could be safely stored.

She entered and turned to close the door behind her. She paused, still facing the door with her back to the room.

"I know you're here."

"Where is she?"

She turned. He stood glowering in the middle of her living room.

"Deja' vu. Didn't we just do this?"

"Where is she? She has a debt to pay in Gotham."

"Gotham's DA offered a plea. Life without parole. She took it. Now she's being held in a federal facility as a threat to national security."

"Right. Why take her at all? She's more disturbed than her father was. She'll be even harder to control."

"I believe it will be worth the effort. She has talents that her father didn't have. They could be useful to me."

"Make sure you keep her contained."

"Better than Arkham? That won't be hard. She is at a specialized, security facility where I can best study her particular talents. Don't worry, I'll make sure she keeps your secret."

In an instant she found herself pinned against the wall, a strong gauntleted forearm pressed against her collarbone.

He snarled, his face centimeters from hers. "You think that's my concern?". She closed her eyes as he pressed harder. His next words were spoken in a soft whisper. "If she gets out and hurts her I'm coming after you."

Abruptly, the pressure lifted from her chest. Her eyes darted around the room. It was empty.

It was Friday. It had been five days. Five days since he had failed her. Again. They had embraced and spoken briefly after the daughter of Hugo Strange had been apprehended. He then returned to Gotham to arranged for the confinement of Gesine Strange. Diana had stayed in New York to spend a time with her sister.

That was Monday.

On Tuesday she called Bruce Wayne at the office. Their conversation had been brief. She told him she was going back to Africa for a few days to work on a new project. It involved a new initiative of the Stone Foundation and she was providing assistance that was beyond lending her name and visage to the cause. She had explained was escorting several private citizens should remain on the continent with them for a few days unless needed for a League mission. He assumed that Dylan Stone was part of the group of private citizens. She didn't say. He didn't ask.

During the week she found that the ability to make or receive personal communications was unpredictable so since she left they had just been able to speak over the comlink. As a safety measure, communications via comlink were recorded and archived at the Watchtower, so their conversations were primarily limited to League matters.

Her time away gave Bruce far too much time to analyze his relationship with Diana. Bruce knew what he wanted. He wanted her. However, he was still not convinced that being together was in either of their best interests – especially hers.

It had been a long week.

Despite the fact that he would see her, he was someplace that he really didn't want to be. Alfred had accepted the courier-delivered invitation for him without hesitation. It was sent by Diana. Diana would never be denied anything if it were up to Alfred.

When he told Alfred he wasn't going, the older man responded that he certainly well _was going._ When he tried to argue, Alfred became angry. If Alfred was angry, he rarely showed it. He did that evening however. Bruce shook his head, recollecting the scene. When it came to Diana, Alfred would rarely back down.

"_Master Bruce, Miss Diana is expecting you. You will not disappoint her. Not tonight, and if I can intercede in time, never again. This is the perfect opportunity to begin the process of retiring the shallow billionaire playboy and introduce the world to a reformed Bruce Wayne, completely besotted with Princess Diana of Themyscira. I suggest you take it. It will be easy. Stop acting and be what you are. Stake your claim or prepare yourself to allow someone else to come in and ease her pain."_

So, here he was. The event was another formal fundraiser. This time in Metropolis. It was meant to introduce the world to the project that had kept her away from him all week. Another charitable venture of the Stone Foundation.

He arrived late, as would be expected of Bruce Wayne. What was not expected, however, was for him to arrive without at least one beautiful woman on his arm and without a dramatic scene.

He emerged into the large ballroom quietly, just in time to see Diana join Dylan Stone on the dance floor. She wore a sapphire blue floor length evening gown. It had a plunging V-neckline with sheer black tulle overlay with beading and sheer tulle ruffles on the skirt. The back was cut low and the straps wound in an X across the middle of her back from her shoulders and reattached low on the bodice. Her hair was swept up in a twist with raven curls hanging loosely around her neck. As usual, she was enchanting.

He stood frozen as he watched Stone place his hand lightly on her waist, the tips of his fingers curling slightly to just touch the bare skin of her back. She rested her right hand on his shoulder and he took her left hand. It wasn't intimate contact, yet Bruce felt his gut clench with jealousy anyway.

How long the scene before him had captured his attention, he didn't know. He stood there watching until a voice from behind him uttered quietly, "Excuse me Mr. Wayne. I have to say that glare might even scare Batman himself."

Without turning, "Hello, Clark."

Clark Kent stepped up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Bruce Wayne, looking out at the dance floor. He whispered, "Bruce, I'm really not sure what you are doing still standing here. She's yours, go get her."

When Bruce didn't respond or make a move, he continued, "Bruce. You need to do _something_ because you sure as hell are doing a lousy billionaire playboy impression tonight. Maybe it's time to give it up for good?"

First Alfred. Now Clark. Without saying a word, he gave in and walked across the dance floor toward Diana.

The only real acknowledgment he gave of Dylan Stone's presence was to tap him on the shoulder to interrupt their dance and utter a low "excuse me" to cut in. His eyes were locked on Diana's before he had even reached them on the dance floor. Oblivious to the pair, a small, wry smile crossed Stone's face as he shook his head and walked away.

They stood there looking into each others' eyes for several moments without saying a word. The band began to play 'You Are So Beautiful' and Diana broke the silence.

"You do still owe me a dance."

"I know."

He held her loosely at first, with one of his hands holding hers and the other resting lightly on her bare back. The urge to have her closer quickly overwhelmed him, however, and he pulled her closer. He rested his cheek against hers and inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of jasmine, tuberose, and orange blossoms.

She whispered in his ear, "I missed you."

He didn't respond. She couldn't see him close his eyes at her words.

They danced for a few more moments. Realizing she wasn't going to get a response to her statement, she attempted to ease him through his discomfort and she began to tell him about what he had missed prior to his arrival. "You missed the big announcement, Bruce. The Stone Foundation is setting up expanded trauma and crisis counseling centers in refugee camps, safe houses, and schools. It will help traumatized children better understand what happened to them and help them heal. When I mentioned the idea to Dylan and he loved it, I introduced him to Kate. She's going to direct the entire project. Worldwide."

More silence. This time Bruce felt Diana stiffened slightly at his lack of reaction. "Bruce, you've said – quite literally – just two words to me. Sometimes your silence stings."

He sighed. "I don't mean for it to. You've just been gone awhile."

She pulled back and looked at him. Teasing a little, she replied, "Five days. Bruce, you seem to be bothered a lot from lack of companionship for someone who constantly says he prefers to be alone."

"Maybe that's how it's supposed to be."

Diana's smile quickly turned into a frown before she let go of his hand and slid it up his arm. With both arms resting around his shoulders, she lay her head on his shoulder with her face turned toward him so she could be clearly heard only by him. Their intimate contact caught the interest of many onlookers, but at that moment neither of them seemed to care.

Her words came out in a whispered flood of barely repressed emotion. "Bruce, don't you dare. I don't want to live in a constant state of instability, wondering when the time will come that you will pull away again. I want you to know that you can love me without compromising your mission. I don't want you to keep putting yourself at risk because you feel guilty about things that are or were beyond your control. Or because you survived them. I don't want you to push me away because you might lose me, fail me, or not deserve me."

"I don't deserve you. In Gesine, I saw what I could have become – what I could still become."

"Hera, Bruce. You had and have one very important thing in your life that she didn't. It made all the difference. You had someone to love you unconditionally your entire life. First your parents. Then Alfred. The strength of your character, your parents as a role model, and Alfred's continued devotion. You'd never become like her. He wouldn't stand for it."

"I still don't know why you want this."

"Because I love you. We have a lot to work through. In the end though, I just want you to be happy, Bruce. You promised that you'd try to."

He squeezed her tighter in his arms. "I know. I am just unused to needing anyone."

Diana chuckled lightly and pulled back slightly to look at him. A small, mischievous smile played across her red lips as she replied, "Bruce, you've needed me for years. You just couldn't admit it to yourself."

They looked into each others' eyes again for a few seconds until flashbulbs going off made them conscious of the attention they were getting.

She pulled away. "We should probably finish this discussion another time, Mr. Wayne."

He nodded and kissed her hand. "I need to get home to…work. When will I …see you?"

She smiled, "Soon, I promise."

He stepped away from her and forced himself to leave her side as she was surrounded by hopefuls who wanted to be the next lucky man to dance with Wonder Woman.

As he left, he passed Katherine Blakemore sitting at a table, speaking with several members of the Metropolis media. The group included Clark Kent and Lois Lane.

"Excuse me Dr. Blakemore, I'd like to make a donation to your new project." Bruce pulled a white envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. It contained a check that Alfred had written earlier that evening.

She stood and accepted the envelope. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne."

He nodded to her and her table companions, "Lois, it's wonderful to see you. You look ravishing."

Lois responded with the smile reserved for someone she was about to ask a very difficult question. He stiffened a bit and braced himself.

"As do you, Bruce. I must say it is unusual to see you alone at such an event. Any particular reason why?" She winked knowingly at him. He looked over at Clark who blushed.

He responded with the last remaining bit of billionaire playboy he had in him. He smiled broadly and placed his right hand over his heart. "I'm still pining for you Lois. Waiting for you to give me a second chance."

Lois laughed. Clark glared. Mission accomplished.

"Have a good evening everyone," Bruce said, attempting to extricate himself from the situation.

As he turned to leave, Katherine suddenly seized his arm. She asked, "Could I speak with you a moment privately?"

The brief look of concern that flitted across his face was quickly replaced by Bruce Wayne's casual, careless demeanor. He followed her away from the table.

She stopped and looked at him seriously. "I wanted to thank you again…for everything."

Warily, Bruce responded. "Of course, Dr. Blakemore – I'm happy to support your new project."

Katherine's forehead creased with concern, hesitating briefly as if she were searching for the right words. After quickly looked around her to make sure they were out of everyone's earshot, she leaned closer to him. Her voice dropped to a very low whisper.

"My life's work is to observe and interpret the behavior of others. Just let me say that the expression I observed on Diana's face while you were dancing is quite similar to the one I see when she speaks about…one of her colleagues. Not many people would notice this and it is an observation that I would never share with anyone, but I thought it appropriate to let you know. That said, I am forever indebted for what Diana and her…colleague have done for me and if there is anything that I can ever do to repay that debt, I would honor the opportunity."

She stepped back and they regarded each other a moment in silence. Katherine knew instinctively that he wasn't going to respond to anything she had just said.

"Please – one last thing before you go. It seems wholly inadequate to call someone like her special. The word doesn't even begin to cover it. She, more than anyone I've ever known, deserves to be happy. You appear to be in a unique position to make that happen – from what I've seen, I honestly doubt anyone else could. I sincerely hope that you take the opportunity to do so."

She held out her hand, which he shook firmly. He met her eye with a stoic expression and responded only with, "Have a good evening, Dr. Blakemore. I wish you luck with your project."

He wasn't happy that someone else suspected his secret. It surprised him to find, however, that he wasn't terribly concerned about it either. As he walked back past the table, Clark Kent caught his eye. Of course Clark had listened to the entire conversation. A woman that did the kind of work that Katherine Blakemore did was likely trustworthy. However, as Clark sent him a look that indicated he would be watching the woman all evening, Bruce's paranoia rose to the surface. _It couldn't hurt to make sure._

It was three in the morning when Batman returned to the Batcave after patrol that evening. He showered and changed, then went to the computer to update his logs. It had been an average evening, so he finished the task in just under an hour.

Just as he finished the report, an email came through the Justice League's secure server. Superman. Despite the security of the server, emails were still written cautiously to convey as little personal information as possible.

_Nothing disclosed this evening by KB. I'll leave it to you to brief Diana. The attached article was sent to me by a friend at the Daily Planet. It will appear In the Saturday morning edition. I thought you might find it of interest._

Bruce opened an attachment of an article intended to tomorrow's society pages. It was coverage of the fundraiser held earlier that evening in Metropolis. Most of the information was about the Stone Foundation project with a bio about Katherine Blakemore. A number of photos were included, two of which caught his attention.

The first photograph was of Katherine dancing with Dylan Stone. The two looked very enamored with one another. For a moment, Bruce studied the image displayed on the largest of his computer monitors.

_Huh. Well, good._

He pulled another image up on the large screen. This one was of Diana and himself, at the very beginning of their dance together. The shot caught Diana's profile, looking at him with adoration. He knew the look well and it never failed to send a surge of warmth through him when he saw it.

The look on his own face took him completely by surprise. The photographer had caught his expression in its entirety. The seductive leer was noticeably absent, his expression conveying just one thing. Bruce Wayne, famed playboy and womanizer, was completely, desperately, and undeniably in love with Wonder Woman.

He felt rising anxiety. All of the old concerns came to the surface. This continued to get more and more complicated. He was an accomplished liar, so he could attempt to deny it, but it would be difficult. Nobody who had seen this would believe him easily.

He wondered when he had started to look at her like that. A relationship between them was most certainly damaging to Wonder Woman's reputation. It could also be dangerous…for Bruce Wayne. The wrath of a thousand Amazons was something that should cause fear in any normal man.

Then suddenly, the anxiety and apprehension drained away when he realized that there was really no decision to make anymore. This is how it was. It was still necessary to distract the populous from making a Batman-Bruce Wayne connection, so he would need to alter his persona from playboy to paramour. It wouldn't be an act and it was something nearly as incompatible with Batman's image as it was Bruce Wayne's. He smiled wryly. _Thank God for the cowl._

"I've never seen a photograph where you looked more like your father," came Alfred's voice from behind him.

Bruce's eyes continued to study the image on the screen. He was right. "I know," he replied softly. "He always seemed to be so happy. So content."

"Hmmm. That only came after your mother. And without ever becoming distracted from his goals and objectives. I daresay, with her support he became more effective, not less."

He gave Alfred a sideways look. His point was more than clear. "You're usually a lot more subtle, Alfred," he said with a sly grin. "You know that it's not really the same thing."

"No, it's not," he agreed. "But it is also not as different as you believe it to be either."

Bruce turned his chair away from the screen. "Alfred, I've never thanked you for….for everything."

He was not surprised when Alfred didn't need him to explain. "And you never have to. It's been an honor. I wish I could say I hadn't made mistakes along the way. That perhaps you'd have been on a different – happier – path had I made different decisions."

"You didn't choose this path for me."

"I didn't. But my regrets are not really about the path you've chosen. It's about those that you haven't chosen. I pleases me greatly that you appear to be at the beginning of such a path. Now you just need to walk up it." As he spoke his final words he gestured up the stairs to the manor with a nod of his head.

He stared at Alfred a moment before giving him a grateful smile and rushing up the stairs to the manor. There was a low light visible under the door of the master bedroom. As he approached, he caught the scent of jasmine and orange blossoms. Silently, he entered the room.

Diana was lying fast asleep in his bed. Her raven tresses cascading across the red wine silk pillowcase the matching sheet outlining the curves of her silhouette.

Quickly shedding his clothing, he slipped under the sheets beside her. As he pulled her to him, she turned to rest her head on his shoulder, sliding her hand across his waist. An unfamiliar feeling of serenity flowed through him.

He wasn't used to being happy and hadn't even really tried to be in over thirty years. A part of him still wasn't sure he could be, should be – or deserved to be. There were habits and behaviors that would be nearly, if not completely, impossible to break. It wouldn't be easy. There would be drama and conflict. It would require facing things that he had spent his whole life avoiding or channeling into darkness, rage, and vengeance.

He looked down at the expression she wore of utter peace and contentment. He smiled. Fortunately, she was blessed with kindness, patience, and diligence. She would need them.

He would face his demons if he had to, because he knew for certain that there was nothing that he wouldn't do to make her happy. Maybe if he could make her happy, he could be too.


End file.
